i 


THE   MIDDLE   AGES 


BY  THE  SA3IE  AUTHOB. 

— • — 

THE  BEGINNINGS   OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

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36-88  Barclay  St.         343  Main  St.  211-213  Madison  St, 


THE    MIDDLE    AGES 


SKETCHES  AND   FRAGMENTS 


BY 


THOMAS  J.  SHAHAN,  S.T.D.,  J.U.L. 

PROFESSOR  OF  CHURCH  HISTORY   IN  THE  CATHOLIC 

UNIVERSITY,   WASHINGTON,  D.C.  ;    AUTHOR  OF 

"  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  CHRISTIANITY,"  ETC. 


NEW  YORK,  CINCINNATI,  CHICAGO 
BENZIGER   BROTHERS 

PRINTERS   TO   THE   HOLT  APOSTOLIC  8EB 

1904 


Wtfjtl  <BbittA. 


HESSE 


REMIGIUS   LAFORT, 

Censor  Libroriim. 


Imprtmatttr* 


Nsw  Yosx,  September  2, 1904. 


*  JOHN  M.  FARLEY, 
Archbishop  of  New  York. 


COPTBIGHT,  1904,   BT  BeNZIGER   BrOTHEEB. 


tHa  ms  ©ear  jFrunti 
EDWARD  JOSEPH  McGOLRICK 

THESE  PAGES 
ARE  AFFECTIONATELY  DEDICATED 


FOREWORD. 

The  historical  sketches  and  fragments  that  are 
here  submitted  to  the  general  reader  deal  only  with 
a  few  phases  of  the  rich  and  varied  life  of  the  period 
known  usually  as  the  Middle  Ages.  The  writer 
will  be  amply  rewarded  if  they  serve  to  arouse  a 
wider  interest  in  that  thousand  years  of  Christian 
history  that  opens  with  Clovis  and  closes  with  the 
discovery  of  the  New  World.  Both  in  Church  and 
State  the  life  of  to-day  is  rooted  in  those  ten  mar- 
vellous centuries  of  transition,  during  which  the 
Catholic  Church  was  mother  and  nurse  to  the  infant 
nations  of  the  West,  a  prop  and  consolation  to  the 
Christians  of  the  Orient.  Our  modern  institutions 
and  habits  of  thought,  our  ideals  and  the  great  lines 
of  our  history,  are  not  intelligible  apart  from  a  suffi- 
cient understanding  of  what  men  thought,  hoped, 
attempted,  suffered  and  founded  in  the  days  when 
there  was  but  one  Christian  faith  from  Otranto  to 
Drontheim.  The  problems  that  now  agitate  us  and 
seem  to  threaten  our  inherited  social  order  were 
problems  for  the  mediaeval  man.  The  conflicts  and 
difficulties  that  make  up  the  sum  of  political  history 
for  the  last  four  centuries  are  only  the  last  chapters 
in  a  story  of  surpassing  interest  that  opens  with  the 
formal  establishment  of  Christian  thought  as  the 
basis  and  norm  of  social  existence  and  development. 
If  anything  seems  distinctive  of  the  modern  mind 

5 


6  FOREWORD, 

as  against  the  mediaeval  temperament,  it  is  the  sense 
of  law,  an  even,  constant,  inerrant  working  of  forces 
and  principles  that  brook  no  interference  from  with- 
out and  are  supremely  equitable  in  their  operations. 
If  we  compare  mediaeval  with  modern  history,  we 
shall  learn  with  certainty  that  in  both  there  is  domi- 
nant this  reign  of  law,  a  consistent  inexorable  unity 
of  purpose,  a  progressive  social  formation.  In  both 
there  are  divine  and  human  elements  that  occupy, 
in  varying  prominence,  the  foreground  of  the  great 
world-stage,  tending  always  to  create  a  higher  type 
of  mankind,  to  nurse  the  dormant  idealism  of  the 
race,  and  to  lift  it  gradually  toward  the  goal  of  all 
human  endeavor  —  the  flawless  life  of  the  spirit 
chastened  and  transformed  and  deified  by  the  imi- 
tation of  the  God-man. 

The  essays  and  papers  included  in  this  volume 
have  appeared  elsewhere  at  intervals.  For  the  cour- 
teous permission  to  reprint  them  I  desire  to  express 
my  thanks  to  the  Catholic  Worlds  the  American 
Catholic  Quarterly  Review^  the  Catholic  Times,  the 
Ave  Maria  and  the  Catholic  University  Bulletin, 


CONTENTS. 


Gregory  the  Great  and  the  Barbarian  World    .  9 

Justinian  the  Great  (a.d.  527-565)     ....  35 

The  Religion  of  Islam  .        .        .        ...        .        .  113 

Catholicism  in  the  Middle  Ages        ....  134 

The  Christians  of  Saint  Thomas        ....  221 

The  MEDiiEVAL  Teacher 230 

The  Book  of  a  Mediaeval  Mother     ....  240 

German  Schools  in  Sixteenth  Century    .        .        .  255 

Baths  and  Bathing  in  the  Middle  Ages  .        .        .  286 

Clergy  and  People  in  Medieval  England      .        .  297 

The  Cathedral-builders  of   Mediaeval  Europe      .  311 

The  Results  of  the  Crusades     .        .        .        .        «  355 

On  the  Italian  Renaissance        .....  394 


or  THE      ">^ 


UNiVE:RsiTY 

THE    MIDDLE   AGES. 


GREGORY  THE  GREAT  AND  THE 
BARBARIAN   WORLD. 

The  latter  part  of  the  sixth  century  of  our 
era  offers  to  the  student  of  human  institutions 
a  fascinating  and  momentous  spectacle  —  the 
simultaneous  transition  over  a  great  extent  of 
space  from  an  ancient  and  refined  civilization 
to  a  new  and  uncouth  barbarism  of  manners, 
speech,  civil  polity,  and  culture.  It  was  then 
that  the  great  mass  of  the  Roman  Empire, 
which  generations  of  soldiers,  statesmen,  and 
administrators  had  consolidated  at  such  fright- 
ful expense  of  human  blood  and  rights,  was 
irrevocably  broken  by  the  savage  hordes  whom  it 
had  in  turn  attempted  to  resist  or  to  assimilate. 

One  moment  it  seemed  as  if  the  fortune  of  a 
Justinian  and  the  genius  of  a  Belisarius  were 
about  to  regain  all  Italy,  the  sacred  nucleus  of 
conquest,  and  to  proceed  thence  to  a  reconsti- 

9 


10  GBEGORY  THE  GREAT, 

tution  of  the  Roman  State  in  Western  Europe. 
But  it  was  only  for  a  moment.  Fresh  multi- 
tudes of  Teutonic  tribesmen  swarmed  from  out 
their  deep  forests  along  the  Danube  or  the  Elbe, 
and  overflowed  Northern  Italy  so  effectually  as 
to  efface  the  classic  landmarks,  and  to  fasten 
forever  on  the  fairest  plains  of  Europe  their 
own  barbarian  cognomen.  It  is  true  that  the 
bureaucracy  of  Constantinople,  aided  by  the  local 
pride  of  the  cities  of  Southern  Italy,  by  a  highly- 
centralized  military  government,  by  the  prestige 
and  the  influence  of  the  Catholic  bishops,  as  well 
as  by  the  jealousy  and  disunion  of  the  Lombard 
chiefs,  maintained  for  two  centuries  the  asser- 
tion of  imperial  rights,  and  a  steadily  diminish- 
ing authority  in  the  peninsula  and  the  islands 
of  the  Mediterranean  and  the  Adriatic.  But,  by 
the  end  of  the  sixth  century,  all  serious  hope 
of  reorganizing  the  Western  Empire  was  gone. 
Thenceforth  (thanks  to  the  Lombard)  the  Frank 
and  the  Visigoth,  luckier  than  their  congeners 
the  Ostrogoth  and  the  Vandal,  might  hope  to 
live  in  peaceful  enjoyment  of  the  vast  provinces 
of  Spain  and  Gaul,  and  the  fierce  pirates  of  old 
Saxony  could  slowly  lay  the  foundations  of  a 
new  empire  on  the  soil  of  abandoned  and  help- 
less  Britain.     In   the  West  not  only  was  the 


GREGORY  THE  GREAT.  11 

civil  authority  of  Rome  overthrown,  but  there 
went  with  it  the  venerable  framework  of  its  an- 
cient administration,  the  Latin  language  —  that 
masterful,  majestic  symbol  of  Roman  right  and 
strength  —  the  Roman  law,  the  municipal  system, 
the  great  network  of  roads  and  of  intercom- 
mercial  relations,  the  peaceful  cultivation  of  the 
soil,  the  schools,  the  literature,  and,  above  all, 
that  splendid  unity  and  consolidarity  of  interests 
and  ideals  which  were  the  true  cement  of  the 
ancient  Roman  State,  and  which  welded  together 
its  multitudinous  parts  more  firmly  than  any 
bonds  of  race  or  blood  or  language. 

Notwithstanding  the  transient  splendor,  the 
victories  and  conquests,  of  the  reign  of  Justinian, 
the  condition  of  the  Orient  was  little,  if  any, 
better  than  that  of  the  West.  The  Persian  and 
the  Avar  harassed  the  frontiers,  and  occasionally 
bathed  their  horses  in  the  sacred  waters  of  the 
Bosphorus.  The  populations  groaned  beneath 
the  excessive  taxes  required  for  endless  fortifica- 
tions, ever  recurring  tributes,  the  pompous 
splendor  of  a  great  court,  and  the  exigencies  of 
a  minute  and  numerous  bureaucracy.  Egypt 
and  Syria,  no  longer  dazzled  by  the  prestige  or 
protected  by  the  strong  arm  of  Rome,  began  to 
indulge  in  velleities  of  national  pride  and  spirit, 


12  GREGORY  THE  GREAT. 

and,  under  the  cover  of  heresy,  to  widen  the 
political  and  social  chasm  that  yawned  between 
them  and  the  great  heart  of  the  empire.  The 
imperial  consciousness,  as  powerful  and  energetic 
in  the  last  of  the  Palseologi  as  in  a  Trajan  or  a 
Constantine,  was  still  vigorous  enough,  but  it 
had  no  longer  its  ancient  instruments  of  good 
fortune,  wealth,  prestige,  and  arms.  /The 
shrunken  legions,  the  diminished  territories,  the 
dwindling  commerce,  foreshadowed  the  dissolu- 
tion of  the  greatest  political  framework  of 
antiquity ;  and  in  the  quick  succeeding  plagues, 
famines,  and  earthquakes,  men  saw  the  ominous 
harbingers  of  destruction.  The  time  of  which  I 
speak  was,  indeed,  the  close  of  a  long,  eventful 
century  of  transition.  Already  the  political 
heirs  of  Rome  and  Byzantium  were  looming  up, 
both  East  and  West.  In  the  East,  fanatic,  con- 
quering Islam  awaited  impatiently  the  tocsin  of 
its  almost  irresistible  propaganda,  and  in  the 
West  the  Frank  was  striding  through  war  and 
anarchy  and  every  moral  enormity  to  the  brill- 
iant destiny  of  continental  empire.  We  may 
imagine  the  problem's  that  beset  at  this  moment 
the  mind  of  a  Boethius  or  a  Cassiodorus. 
Would  the  fruits  of  a  thousand  years  of  Greek 
and   Boman   culture    be    utterly  blotted    out? 


GREGORY  THE  GREAT,  13 

Would  the  gentleness  and  refinement  that  long 
centuries  of  external  peace  and  world-wide  com- 
merce and  widest  domination  had  begotten  be 
lost  to  the  race  of  man  ?  Would  the  teachings 
of  Jesus  Christj  the  source  of  so  much  social 
betterment,  be  overlaid  by  some  Oriental  fanati- 
cism or  hopelessly  degraded  by  the  coarse  natu- 
ralism of  the  Northern  barbarians  ?  Could  it  be 
that  in  this  storm  were  about  to  be  ingulfed  the 
very  highest  conquests  of  man  over  nature  and 
over  himself,  the  delicate  and  difficult  art  of 
government,  the  most  polished  instruments  of 
speech,  the  rarest  embodiments  of  ideal  thought 
in  every  art,  that  sweet  spiritual  amity,  the  fruit 
of  religious  faith  and  hope,  that  common 
Christian  atmosphere  in  which  all  men  moved 
and  breathed  and  rejoiced  ? 

We  all  know  what  it  was  that  in  these  cen- 
turies of  commotion  and  demolition  saved  from 
utter  loss  so  much  of  the  intellectual  inheritance 
of  the  Graeco-Roman  world,  what  power  tamed 
and  civilized  the  barbarian  masters  of  the  West- 
ern Empire,  fixed  them  to  the  soil,  codified  and 
purified  their  laws,  and  insensibly  and  indirectly 
introduced  among  them  no  small  share  of  that 
Roman  civilization  which  they  once  so  heartily 
ha-t^d,  and  which  in  their  pagan  days  they  looked 


14  GREGOBY  THE  GREAT. 

on  as  utterly  incompatible  with  Teutonic  man- 
hood and  freedom.  It  was  the  Catholic  hierarchy 
which  took  upon  itself  the  burden  and  responsi- 
bility of  civil  order  and  progress  at  a  time  when 
absolute  anarchy  prevailed,  and  around  which 
centred  all  those  elements  of  the  old  classic 
world  that  were  destined,  under  its  asgis,  to 
traverse  the  ages  and  go  on  forever,  moulding 
the  thought  and  life  of  humanity  as  long  as  men 
shall  admire  the  beautiful,  or  reverence  truth,  or 
follow  after  order  and  justice  and  civil  security. 
It  was  the  bishops,  monks,  and  priests  of  the 
Catholic  Church  who  in  those  troublous  days 
stood  like  a  wall  for  the  highest  goods  of  society 
as  well  as  for  the  rights  of  the  soul ;  who  resisted 
in  person  the  oppression  of  the  barbarian  chief 
just  emerged  from  his  swamps  and  forests,  as 
well  as  the  avarice  and  unpatriotic  greed  of  the 
Roman  who  preyed  upon  his  country's  ills  ;  who 
roused  the  fainting  citizens,  repaired  the  broken 
walls,  led  men  to  battle,  mounted  guard  upon 
the  ramparts,  and  negotiated  treaties.  Indeed, 
there  was  no  one  else  in  the  ruinous  and  totter- 
ing State  to  whom  men  could  turn  for  protection 
from  one  another  as  well  as  from  the  barbarian. 
It  seemed,  for  a  long  time,  as  if  society  were 
returning  to  its  original  elements,  such  as  it  had 


GREGORY  THE  GREAT.  15 

once  been  in  the  hands  of  its  Architect,  and  that 
no  one  could  better  administer  on  its  dislocated 
machinery  than  the  men  who  directly  represented 
that  divine  providence  and  love  out  of  which 
human  society  had  arisen. 

The  keystone  of  this  extraordinary  episcopate 
was  the  papacy.  The  Bishop  of  Rome  shared 
with  all  other  bishops  of  the  empire  their  in- 
fluence over  the  municipal  administration  and 
finances,  their  quasi-control  of  the  police,  the 
prisons,  and  the  public  works,  the  right  to  sit  as 
judge,  not  alone  over  clerics  and  in  clerical  cases, 
but  in  profane  matters,  and  to  receive  the  ap- 
peals of  those  who  felt  themselves  wronged  by 
the  civil  official.  Like  all  other  bishops  of  the 
sixth  century,  he  was  a  legal  and  powerful  check 
upon  the  rapacity,  the  ignorance,  and  the  collu- 
sion of  the  great  body  of  officials  who  directed 
the  intricate  mechanism  of  Byzantine  administra- 
tion. But  over  and  above  this  the  whole  world 
knew  that  he  was  the  successor  of  the  most 
illustrious  of  the  apostles,  whose  legacy  of 
authority  he  had  never  suffered  to  dwindle ; 
that  he  was  the  metropolitan  of  Italy,  and  the 
patriarch  of  the  entire  West,  all  of  whose 
churches  had  been  founded  directly  or  indirectly 
by  his  see. 


16  GREGORY  THE  GREAT. 

From  the  time  of  Constantine  his  authority  in 
the  West  had  been  frequently  acknowledged  and 
confirmed  by  the  State  and  the  bishops.  In 
deferring  to  his  decision  the  incipient  schism  of 
the  Donatists,  the  victor  of  the  Milvian  Bridge 
only  accepted  the  situation  such  as  it  was  out- 
lined at  Aries  and  Antioch  and  Sardica,  such  as 
Valentinian  formally  proclaimed  it,  and  the 
Pragmatic  Sanction  of  Justinian  made  the  funda- 
mental law  of  the  State.  Long  before  Constan- 
tine, the  Bishop  of  Rome  seemed  to  Decius  and 
Aurelian  the  most  prominent  of  the  Christian 
bishops,  and  since  then  every  succeeding  pon- 
tificate raised  him  higher  in  the  public  esteem. 

Occasionally  a  man  of  transcendent  genius, 
like  Leo  the  Great,  hroke  the  usual  high  level  of 
superiority,  and  shone  as  the  saviour  of  the  State 
and  the  scourge  of  heresy;  or  again,  skilful 
administrators  like  Gelasius  and  Hormisdas 
piloted  happily  the  bark  of  Peter  through  ugly 
shoals  and  rapids.  But,  whatever  their  gifts  or 
character,  one  identic  consciousness  sm^vived 
through  all  of  them  —  the  sense  of  a  supreme 
mission  and  of  the  most  exalted  responsibility  in 
ecclesiastical  matters.  Did  ever  that  serene 
consciousness  of  authority  need  to  be  intensified  ? 
What  a  world  of  suggestion  and  illustration  lay 


GREGORY  THE  GREAT.  17 

about  them  in  their  very  episcopal  city,  where  at 
every  step  the  monuments  of  universal  domina- 
tion met  their  gaze,  where  the  very  atmosphere 
was  eloquent  with  the  souvenirs  of  imperial 
mastery  and  the  stubborn  execution  of  the 
imperial  will,  where  the  local  mementoes  of 
their  own  steady  upward  growth  yet  confronted 
them,  where  they  could  stand  in  old  St.  Peter's, 
even  then  one  of  the  most  admired  buildings 
of  antiquity,  over  the  bodies  of  Peter  and  Paul, 
surrounded  by  pilgrims  from  all  parts  of  the 
world,  and  echo  the  words  of  the  first  Leo,  that 
already  the  spiritual  rule  of  the  Roman  pontiffs 
was  wider  than  the  temporal  one  of  the  Roman 
emperors  had  ever  been  ! 

It  was  to  this  office,  and  in  the  midst  of  such 
critical  events  as  I  have  attempted  to  outline, 
that  Gregory,  whom  after-ages  have  styled  the 
Great,  succeeded  in  590  a.d.  He  could  boast  of 
the  noblest  blood  of  Rome,  being  born  of  one  of 
the  great  senatorial  families,  a  member  of  the 
gens  Anieia,  and  destined  from  infancy  to  the 
highest  political  charges.  His  great-great-grand- 
father, Felix  II.  (483-492),  had  been  Bishop  of 
Rome,  and  he  himself  at  an  early  age  had  held 
the  office  of  praetor,,  and  walked  the  streets  of 
Rome   in    silken    garments    embroidered    with 


18  GREGORY  THE  GREAT. 

shining  gems,  and  surrounded  by  a  mob  of  clients 
and  admirers.  But  he  had  been  brought  up  in 
the  strictest  of  Christian  families,  by  a  saintly 
mother ;  and  in  time  the  blank  horror  of  public 
life,  the  emptiness  of  human  things  in  general, 
and  the  grave  concern  for  his  soul  so  worked 
upon  the  young  noble  that  he  threw  up  his 
promising  camera,  and,  after  distributing  his 
great  fortime  to  the  poor,  turned  his  own  home 
on  the  Coelian  Hill  into  a  monastery,  and  took 
up  his  residence  therein.  It  was  with  delibera- 
tion, and  after  satisfactory  experience  of  the 
world  and  life,  that  he  made  this  choice.  It 
was  a  most  sincere  one,  and  though  he  was 
never  to  know  much  of  the  monastic  silence  and 
the  calm  lone-dwelling  of  the  soul  with  God, 
these  things  ever  remained  his  ideal,  and  his 
correspondence  is  filled  with  cries  of  anguish, 
with  piteous  yearnings  for  solitude  and  retire- 
ment. On  the  papal  throne,  dealing  as  an  equal 
with  emperors  and  exarchs,  holding  with  firm 
hand  the  tiller  of  the  ship  of  state  on  the 
angriest  of  seas,  corresponding  with  kings,  and 
building  up  the  fabric  of  papal  greatness,  his 
mighty  spirit  sighs  for  the  lonely  cell,  the 
obedience  of  the  monk,  the  mystic  submersion 
of   self   in  the  placid   ocean  of   love   and   con- 


GREGORY  THE  GREAT.  19 

templation.  His  austerities  soon  destroyed  liis 
health,  and  so  he  went  through  fourteen  stormy 
years  of  government,  broken  in  body  and  chafing 
in  spirit,  yet  ever  triumphant  by  the  force  of  his 
superb,  masterful  will,  and  capable  of  dictating 
from  his  bed  of  pain  the  most  successful  of  papal 
administrations,  one  which  sums  up  at  once  the 
long  centuries  of  organic  development  on  classic 
soil  and  worthily  opens  the  great  drama  of  the 
Middle  Ages. 

In  fact,  it  is  as  the  first  of  the  mediaeval  popes 
that  Gregory  claims  our  especial  attention.  His 
title  to  a  place  among  the  benefactors  of  human- 
ity reposes  in  great  part  upon  enduring  spiritual 
achievements  which  modified  largely  the  history 
of  the  Western  Empire,  upon  the  firm  assertion 
of  principles  which  obtained  without  contradic- 
tion for  nearly  a  thousand  years,  and  upon  his 
writings,  which  formed  the  heads  and  hearts  of 
the  best  men  in  Church  and  State  during  the 
entire  Middle  Ages,  and  which,  like  a  subtle 
indestructible  aroma,  are  even  yet  operative  in 
Christian  society. 

The  popes  of  the  sixth  century  were  not  un- 
conscious of  the  fact  that  the  greater  part  of  the 
Western  Empire  had  passed  irrevocably  into  the 
hands   of    barbarian   Teutons,   nor    were    they 


20  GBEQOBY  THE  GREAT. 

entirely  without  relations  with  the  new  possessors 
of  Roman  soil;  but  their  temporary  subjection 
to  an  Arian  king,  the  Gothic  war,  and  the  cruel 
trials  of  the  city  of  Rome,  the  meteoric  career 
of  Justinian,  as  a  rule  deferential  and  favorable 
to  the  bishops  of  Rome,  the  painful  episode  of 
the  Three  Chapters,  in  which  flamed  up  once 
more  the  smouldering  embers  of  the  great 
christological  discussions,  the  uncertain  re- 
lations with  the  new  imperial  office  of  the 
exarchate,  as  well  as  a  clinging  reverence  for  the 
empire  and  its  institutions,  kept  their  faces 
turned  to  the  Golden  Horn.  They  had  welcomed 
Clovis  into  the  church  with  a  prophetic  instinct 
of  the  role  that  his  descendants  were  to  play, 
and  they  kept  an  eye  upon  the  Catholic  Goths, 
on  the  Suabians  of  Northwestern  Spain,  and  on 
the  Irish  Kelts.  Individual  and  sporadic  mis- 
sionary efforts  originated  among  their  clergy,  of 
which  we  would  know  more  were  it  not  for  the 
almost  complete  destruction  of  their  local  annals 
and  archives  in  the  Gothic  wars.  But  withal, 
one  feels  that  these  sixth-century  popes  belong 
yet  to  the  old  Graeco-Roman  world,  that  they 
hesitate  to  acknowledge  publicly  that  the  im- 
perial cause  is  lost  in  the  West,  that  the  splendid 
unity  of  the  Roman  and  the  Christian  name  is 


GBEGOBT  THE  GREAT.  21 

only  a  souvenir.  On  the  other  hand,  the  barba- 
rian was  too  often  a  heretic,  too  often  slippery, 
selfish,  and  treacherous,  while  the  Roman  was 
yet  a  man  of  refinement  and  culture,  loath  to  go 
out  among  uncouth  tribes  who  had  destroyed 
whatever  he  held  dear.  In  a  word,  he  nourished 
toward  the  barbarian  world  at  large  that  natural 
repulsion  which  he  afterward  reproached  the 
British  Kelt  for  entertaining  toward  the  Saxon 
destroyer  of  his  fireside  and  his  independence. 

Gregory  inaugurated  a  larger  policy.  He  was 
the  first  monk  to  sit  on  the  Chair  of  Peter,  and 
he  brought  to  that  redoubtable  office  a  mind 
free  from  minor  preoccupations  and  devoted  to 
the  real  interests  of  the  Roman  Church.  He 
had  been  praBtor  and  nuncio,  had  moved  much 
among  the  bishops  and  the  aristocracy  of  the 
Catholic  world,  and  was .  well  aware  of  the 
inferior  and  painful  situation  that  the  New  Rome 
was  preparing  for  her  elder  predecessor.  The 
careers  of  Silverius,  Vigilius,  and  Pelagius  were 
yet  fresh  in  the  minds  of  men,  and  it  needed  not 
much  discernment  to  see  that,  under  the  new 
regime,  the  Byzantine  court  would  never  will- 
ingly tolerate  the  ancient  independence  and  tra- 
ditional boldness  of  the  Roman  bishops. 

It  was,  therefore,  high  time  to  find  a  balance 


22  GREGORY  THE  GREAT. 

to  the  encroachments  and  sinister  designs  of 
those  Greeks  on  the  Bosphorus,  who  were  drift- 
ing ever  further  away  from  the  Latin  spirit  and 
ideals ;  this  the  genius  of  Gregory  discovered  in 
the  young  barbarian  nations  of  the  West.  It 
would  be  wrong,  however,  to  see  in  his  conduct 
only  the  cold  calculations  of  a  statesman.  It 
was  influenced  simultaneously  by  the  deep 
yearnings  of  the  apostle,  by  the  purest  zeal  for 
the  salvation  and  betterment  of  the  new  races 
which  lay  about  him  like  a  whitening  harvest, 
waiting  for  the  sickle  of  the  spiritual  husband- 
man. While  yet  a  simple  monk  he  had  extorted 
from  Pelagius  the  permission  to  evangelize  the 
Angles  and  the  Saxons,  and  had  proceeded  some 
distance  when  the  Romans  discovered  their  loss 
and  insisted  on  his  return.  Were  it  not  for 
their  selfishness  he  would  have  reached  the 
shores  of  Britain,  and  gained  perhaps  a  place  in 
the  charmed  circle  of  King  Arthur  and  the 
Knights  of  the  Round  Table,  who  were  during 
that  century  engaged  in  the  losing  conflict  for 
independence  which  ended  so  disastrously  at  the 
Badonic  Mount. 

This  is  not  the  place  to  relate  the  details  of 
the  numerous  relations  which  Gregory  established 
on  all  sides  with  the  barbarian  peoples  of  Europe. 


GBEGORY  THE  GREAT,  23 

The  nearest  to  him  were  the  Lombards,  that 
resistless  hammer  of  the  Italo-Roman  state,  and 
one  of  the  most  arrogant  and  intractable  of  all 
the  Teutonic  tribes.  His  policy  with  them  is 
peace  at  any  price.  Now  he  purchases  it  with 
Church  gold,  sorely  needed  elsewhere ;  and  again 
he  concludes  a  treaty  with  these  iron  dukes  in 
the  very  teeth  of  the  exarch.  He  takes  their 
rule  as  an  accomplished  fact.  He  refuses  to  be 
an  accomplice  in  the  base,  inhuman  measures  of 
the  Byzantine  governors.  He  rests  not  until  he 
has  converted  their  queen  Theodelinda,  and 
their  king  Agilulf;  with  a  certain  mixture  of 
bitterness  and  joy  he  proclaims  himself  more  a 
bishop  of  the  Lombards  than  the  Romans,  so 
numerous  were  their  camp-fires  upon  the  Cam- 
pagna,  and  so  familiar  the  sight  of  their  hirsute 
visages  and  the  sound  of  their  horrid  gutturals 
among  the  delicate  and  high-bred  denizens  of 
Rome. 

It  was  he  who  restrained  this  rugged  and 
contemptuous  race ;  who  started  among  them  a 
counter  current  against  their  brutal  paganism 
and  their  cold,  narrow,  unsentimental  Arianism ; 
who  left  to  them,  in  his  own  person  and  memory, 
the  most  exalted  type  of  Christian  manhood 
—  at  once  fearless  and  gentle,  aggressive   and 


24  GBEGORT  THE  GREAT, 

enduring,  liberal  and  constant,  loyal  to  a  decay- 
ing, incapable  empire,  but  shrewd  and  far-seeing 
for  the  interests  of  Western  humanity,  whose 
future  renaissance  he  must  have  vaguely  felt  as 
well  as  an  Augustine  or  a  Salvian. 

Beyond  the  Alps  the  descendants  of  Clovis 
had  consolidated  all  of  Gaul  under  Frankish  rule. 
Though  Catholics,  they  were  too  often  purely 
natural  barbarians,  restrained  with  difficulty 
from  the  greatest  excesses,  and  guilty  in  every 
reign  of  wanton  oppression  of  Church  and  people. 
They  sold  the  episcopal  sees  to  the  highest  bidder, 
and  they  often  intruded  into  these  places  of 
honor  and  influence  their  soldiers  or  their 
courtiers.  With  great  tact  and  prudence 
Gregory  dealt  with  these  semi-Christian  kings. 
In  his  correspondence  he  argues  at  length,  and 
explains  the  evils  of  a  simoniacal  episcopate ;  he 
pleads  for  a  just  and  mild  administration;  he 
warns  them  not  to  exert  their  power  to  the 
utmost,  but  to  temper  justice  with  mercy,  and  to 
learn  the  art  of  self-control.  In  all  the  range  of 
papal  letters  there  is  scarcely  anything  more 
noble  than  the  correspondence  of  Gregory  with 
the  kings  of  Gaul,  Spain,  and  England.  This 
fine  Roman  patrician,  this  ex-praetor,  recalls  the 
palmy  days  of  republican  Rome,  when  her  con- 


GREGORY  THE  GREAT,  25 

suls  and  legates  smoothed  the  way  of  success  as 
much  by  their  diplomacy  as  by  their  military 
skill.  He  speaks  with  dignity  to  these  rugged 
kings^  these  ex-barbarian  chieftains,  yet  with 
grave  tenderness  and  sympathy.  He  recognizes 
their  rank  and  authority,  their  prowess  and  their 
merits.  He  reminds  them  that  they  are  but 
earthly  instruments  of  the  heavenly  King,  and 
that  their  office  entails  a  grave  responsibility, 
personal  and  official.  At  times  he  dares  to  in- 
sinuate a  rebuke,  but  in  sweet  and  well-chosen 
words.  He  ranks  them  with  Constantine  and 
Helen,  the  benefactors  of  the  Roman  see.  His 
language  is  generally  brief,  but  noble,  courteous, 
earnest,  penetrating,  and  admirably  calculated 
to  make  an  impression  upon  warlike  and  un- 
tutored men,  who  were  delighted  and  flattered 
at  such  treatment  from  the  uncrowned  head  of 
the  Western  civilization.  Childebert  and  Brune- 
haut,  Recared  and  Ethelbert  and  Bertha,  be- 
came powerful  allies  in  his  apostolic  designs, 
and  opened  that  long  and  beneficent  career  of 
early  mediaeval  Christianity  when  the  youthful 
nations  grew  strong  and  coalesced  under  the 
tutelage  of  the  papacy,  which  healed  their  dis- 
cords, knitted  them  together,  arid  transmitted  to 
them  the  spirit,  the  laws,  the  tongues,  the  arts, 


26  GREGORY  THE  GREAT. 

and  the  culture  of  Greece  and  Rome  —  treasures 
that,  in  all  probability,  would  otherwise  have 
perished  utterly. 

We  are  in  great  measure  the  descendants  of 
these  ancient  tribes,  now  become  the  nations  of 
Europe,  and  we  cannot  disown  the  debt  of  grati- 
tude that  we  owe  to  the  memory  of  that  Roman 
who  first  embraced,  with  an  all-absorbing  love, 
the  Frank,  the  Lombard,  and  the  Gael,  the  Os- 
trogoth and  the  Visigoth,  the  Schwab,  the 
Wend,  and  the  Low-Dutch  pirates  of  the  Elbe 
and  the  Weser.  Hitherto  their  chiefs  had  es- 
teemed the  vicarious  lieutenancy  of  Rome,  so 
deep-rooted  w^as  their  esteem  for  the  genius  of 
the  empire.  But  they  knew  now  what  a  pro- 
found transformation  was  worked  in  the  West, 
and  they  began  the  career  of  independent  na- 
tions, exulting  in  their  strength.  Politically 
they  were  forever  lost  to  the  central  trunk  of 
the  empire,  but  they  w^ere  saved  for  higher 
things,  for  the  thousand  influences  of  Roman 
thought  and  experience.  They  were  made 
chosen  vessels,  not  alone  of  religion,  but  of  the 
arts  and  sciences,  of  philosophy  and  govern- 
ment, and  of  that  delicate,  refined  idealism, 
that  rare  and  precious  bloom  of  long  ages  of 
sincere  Christian  life  and  conduct,  which  would 


GREGOET  THE  GREAT.  ^         27 

surely  have  perished  in  a  new  atmosphere  of 
simple  naturalism. 

No  act  of  Gregory's  eventful  career  has  had 
such  momentous  consequences  as  the  conversion 
of  the  Angles  and  the  Saxons.  They  were,  if 
possible,  a  more  hopeless  lot  than  the  Lombards, 
revengeful,  avaricious,  and  lustful,  knowing  only 
one  vice  —  cowardice  —  and  practising  but  one 
virtue  —  courage.  Though  distant,  the  fame  of 
their  brutality  had  reached  the  ends  of  the 
earth.  Moreover,  they  had  already  nearly  ex- 
terminated a  flourishing  Christianity,  that  of 
Keltic  Britain.  In  a  word,  they  were  not  so 
very  unlike  the  Iroquois  when  Brebeuf  and 
Lallemant  undertook  their  evangelization.  I 
need  not  go  over  the  recital  of  their  conver- 
sion. All  his  life  Gregory  cherished  this  act 
as  the  greatest  of  his  life.  He  refers  to  it  in 
his  correspondence  with  the  East,  and  it  con- 
soled him  in  the  midst  of  failures  and  discour- 
agements. His  great  soul  shines  out  through 
the  pages  of  Bede,  who  has  left  us  a  detailed 
narrative  of  this  event — his  boundless  confi- 
dence in  God,  his  use  of  purely  spiritual  weap- 
ons, his  large  and  timely  toleration.  For  these 
rude  Saxons  he  would  enlist  all  the  sympathy 
of  the  Franks  and  the  cooperation  of  the  British 


28  GREGORY  THE  GREAT, 

clergy.  He  directs  in  minutest  detail  the  prog- 
ress of  .the  mission,  and  provides  during  life  the 
men  and  means  needed  to  carry  it  on.  Truly 
he  may  be  called  the  apostle  of  the  English,  for, 
though  he  never  touched  their  soil,  he  burned 
with  the  desire  to  die  among  them  and  for  them, 
he  opened  to  them  the  gate  of  the  heavenly 
kingdom,  and  introduced  them  to  the  art  and 
literature  and  culture  of  the  great  Christian 
body  on  the  continent. 

Henceforth  the  Saxon  was  no  longer  the  Red 
Indian  of  the  classic  peoples,  but  a  member  of 
the  world-wide  Church.  Quicker  than  Frank  or 
Lombard  he  caught  the  spirit  of  Rome,  and  as 
long  as  he  held  the  soil  of  England  was  un- 
swervingly faithful  to  her.  Through  her  came 
all  his  culture  —  the  fine  arts  and  music  and 
the  love  of  letters.  His  books  came  from  her 
libraries,  and  she  sent  him  his  first  architects 
and  masons.  From  her,  too,  he  received  with 
the  faith  the  principles  of  Roman  law  and  pro- 
cedure. When  he  went  abroad,  it  was  to  her 
that  he  turned  his  footsteps ;  and  when  he  wear- 
ied of  life  in  his  pleasant  island  home,  he  be- 
took himself  to  Rome. to  end  his  days  beneath 
the  shadow  of  St.  Peter.  In  the  long  history 
of   Christian   Rome    she    never    knew   a    more 


GREGORY  THE  GREAT.  29 

romantic  and  deep-set  attachment  on  the  part 
of  any  people  than  that  of  the  Angles  and  the 
Saxons,  who  for  centuries  cast  at  her  feet  not 
only  their  faith  and  their  hearts,  but  their  lives, 
their  crowns,  and  their  very  home  itself.  Surely 
there  must  have  been  something  extraordinary 
in  the  character  of  their  first  apostle,  a  great 
well-spring  of  affection,  a  happy  and  sympathetic 
estimate  of  the  national  character,  to  call  forth 
such  an  outpouring  of  gratitude,  and  such  a 
devotion,  not  only  to  the  Church  of  Rome,  but 
to  the  civilization  that  she  represented.  To-day 
the  English-speaking  peoples  are  in  the  van  of 
all  human  progress  and  culture,  and  the  English 
tongue  is  likely  to  become  at  no  distant  date 
the  chief  vehicle  of  human  thought  and  hope. 
Both  these  peoples  and  their  tongue  are  to-day 
great  composites,  whose  elements  it  would  not 
be  easy  to  segregate.  But  away  back  at  their 
fountain-head,  where  they  first  issue  from  the 
twilight  of  history,  there  stands  a  great  and 
noble  figure  who  gave  them  their  first  impetus 
on  the  path  of  religion  a»d  refinement,  and  to 
whom  must  always  belong  a  large  share  of  the 
credit  which  they  enjoy. 

As  pope  and  administrator  of  the  succession 
of  Peter,  Gregory  ranks  among  the  greatest  of 


30  GREGORY  THE  GREAT. 

that  series.  His  personal  sanctity,  his  influence 
as  a  preacher,  his  interest  in  the  public  worship, 
and  his  devotion  to  the  poor,  are  only  what  we 
might  expect  from  a  zealous  monastic  bishop; 
but  Gregory  was  eminent  in  all  these,  while 
surpassingly  great  in  other  things.  No  pope 
has  ever  exercised  so  much  influence  by  his 
writings,  on  which  the  Middle  Ages  were  largely 
formed  as  far  as  practical  ethics  and  the  dis- 
cipline of  life  were  concerned.  They  were  m 
every  monastery,  and  were  thumbed  over  by 
every  cleric.  Above  all,  his  book  of  the  "  Pas- 
toral Rule "  fashioned  the  episcopate  of  the 
Middle  Ages.  By  the  rarest  of  compliments, 
this  golden  booklet  was  translated  into  Greek, 
^nd  Alfred  the  Great  put  it  into  Anglo-Saxon. 
It  was  the  vade-mecum  of  every  good  bishop 
throughout  Europe,  and  a  copy  of  it  was  given 
to  every  one  at  his  consecration.  It  was  reck- 
oned among  the  essential  books  that  every 
priest  was  expected  to  own,  and  it  would  not  be 
too  much  to  say  that,  after  th^  Bible,  no  work 
exercised  so  great  an  influence  for  a  thousand 
years  as  this  little  manual  of  clerical  duties  and 
ideals.  It  filled  the  place  which  the  "  Imitation 
of  Christ "  has  taken  in  later  times ;  and  in  the 
direct,  rugged  Latin  of  its  periods,  in  the  stern. 


GJREGORY  THE  GREAT.  31 

uncompromising  doctrine  of  its  author,  in  its 
practical  active  tendency,  in  its  emphasis  on 
the  public  social  duties  of  the  bishop,  and  in  its 
blending  of  the  heavenly  and  the  earthly  king- 
doms, are  to  be  found  several  of  the  distinctive 
traits  of  the  mediaeval  episcopate.  He  laid  out 
the  work  for  the  mediaeval  popes,  and  in  his 
person  and  career  was  a  worthy  type  of  the 
bravest  and  the  most  politic  among  them. 
Though  living  in  very  critical  times,  he  main- 
tained the  trust  confided  to  him  and  handed  it 
over  increased  to  his  successors.  There  is  no 
finer  model  of  the  Latin  Christian  spirit ;  and 
some  will  like  to  think  that  he  was  put  there, 
at  the  confines  of  the  old  and  the  newj  between 
Romania  and  Gothia,  to  withstand  the  flood  of 
Byzantinism,  to  save  the  Western  barbarian  for 
Latin  influences,  and  to  secure  to  Europe  the 
transmission  of  the  larger  and  more  congenial 
Latin  culture. 

Yet  he  was,  like  all  the  Catholic  bishops  of 
that  age,  devoted  to  the  ideal  of  the  Christian 
Empire,  and  while  he  recognized  the  hand  of 
Providence  in  the  breaking  up  of  the  once 
proud  system,  he  did  not  spare  the  expression 
and  the  proof  of  his  loyalty  to  the  emperors  at 
Constantinople.     Though  virtually  the  founder 


32  GEEGOBT  THE  GREAT, 

of  tlie  temporal  power  of  the  papacy,  he  ever 
held  his  temporal  estate  for  and  under  New 
Eome,  and  was  never  happier  than  when  he 
could  safeguard  or  advance  her  interests.  Like 
most  men  of  his  time,  he  believed  that  the  last 
of  the  great  empires  was  that  of  Rome,  and  that 
when  it  fell  the  end  of  the  world  was  close  at 
hand.  Indeed,  the  well-known  couplet  (made 
famous  by  Anglo-Saxon  pilgrims)  belongs  to 
his  epoch,  and  strikingly  conveys  the  popular 
feeling :  — 

"While  stands  the  Colosseum,  Rome  shall  stand; 
When  falls  the  Colosseum,  Rome  shall  fall ; 
And  when- Rome  falls,  the  world." 

Long  ages  have  gone  by  since  he  was  gath- 
ered to  his  rest  (604)  in  the  portico  of  old  St, 
Peter's,  with  Julius  and  Damasus,  Leo  and 
Gelasius,  and  all  the  long  line  of  men  who 
built  up  the  spiritual  greatness  of  Rome.  Le- 
gends have  gathered  about  his  memory,  like 
mosses  and  streamers  on  the  venerable  oak, 
and  calumny  has  aimed  some  poisoned  shafts 
at  his  secular  fame.  But  history  defends  him 
from  the  unconscious  transformation  of  the 
one,  and  the  intentional  malice  of  the  other, 
which  ever  loves  a  shining  mark.  She  shows 
to  the  admiring  ages  his  portrait,  high-niched 


GREGOBY  THE  GREAT,  33 

in  the  temple  of  fame,  among  the  benefactors 
of  humanity,  the  protector  of  the  poor  and  the 
feeble  against  titled  wealth  and  legalized  op- 
pression, the  apostle  of  nations  once  shrouded 
in  darkness,  now  the  foremost  torch-bearers  of 
humanity.  He  appeared  to  posterity  as  one  of 
that  very  small  number  of  men  who,  holding 
the  highest  authority,  administer  it  without 
fault,  lead  unblemished  lives,  and  find  time  and 
opportunity  to  heal,  with  voice  and  pen  and 
hand,  the  ills  of  a  suffering  world,  and  advance 
its  children  on  a  path  of  unbroken  progress, 
guided  by  the  genius  of  pure  religion,  consoled, 
elevated,  and  purified  by  all  that  the  noblest 
thought  and  the  widest  experience  of  the  past 
can  offer.^ 


1  The  works  of  Gregory  the  Great  are  reprinted  in  Migne  (Pl. 
Ixxv.-lxxix.)  from  the  Benedictine  edition  of  Sainte  Marthe  (Paris, 
1705,  4  vols.  foL).  A  critical  edition  of  his  "  Registrum  Episto- 
lariim,"  or  "Letter-Book,"  is  now  at  hand,  owing  to  the  learned 
industry  of  P.  Ewald  and  L.  M.  Hartmann  (Mon.  Germ.  Hist. 
Epistolae,  I. -II.,  Berlin,  1891-1899).  His  account  of  St.  Benedict 
has  been  reedited  from  the  "Dialogues"  by  P.  Cozza-Luzzi 
(Rome,  1880),  and  the  "  Homilies,"  by  G.  Pfeilschifter,  under  the 
auspices  of  Dr.  Knopfler's  "Seminary  of  Church  History" 
(Munich,  1900).  There  is  an  English  translation  of  the  "  Regula 
Pastoralis,"  or  "Shepherd's  Book,"  by  H.  R.  Bramley  (London, 
1874).  The  English  philologian,  Henry  Sweet,  edited  and  trans- 
lated into  English  the  West  Saxon  version  made  by  King  Alfred 
for  the  edification  of  his  priests  and  people  (Early  English  Text 
Society  Publications,  Londoo,  1871).     Concerning  his  correspon- 


34  GREGOBT  THE  GREAT, 

dence  with  St.  Augustine  of  Canterbury  on  the  toleration  of  heathen 
customs,  cf.  Duchesne,  "  Origines  du  Culte  Chretien  "  (Paris,  1899, 
1902),  and  Sagmiiller,  Theol.  Quartal.  SchrifL  (1899),  Vol.  160. 
The  age  and  authenticity  of  the  "  Sacramentary,"  or  Old  Roman 
Missal,  that  goes  under  his  name,  are  discussed  by  Duchesne  (op. 
cit.)  and  by  Dr.  Probst  in  a  work  of  much  erudition,  "  Die  abend- 
landische  Messe  vom  V.  bis  zum  VII.  Jahrhundert"  (Miinster, 
1896) .  The  origins  of  the  so-called  Gregorian  Chant  are  treated  by 
F.  A.  Gevaert,  "  Les  Origines  du  Chant  Liturgique  de  I'JEglise 
Latine  "  (Gand,  1900),  and  "  La  M^lopee  Antique  dans  le  Chant  de 
PEglise  Latine"  (Gand,  1895)  ;  cf.  G.  Morin,  "  L'Origine  du  Chant 
Gr^gorien  (Paris,  1890).  The  oldest  priiited  lives  of  Gregory  the 
Great  are  those  by  Paulus  Diaconus,  at  the  end  of  the  eighth  cen- 
tury, and  by  Johannes  Diaconus  (Migne,  Pl.  Ixxxv.  69-242)  about 
872  or  873.  There  is  said  to  exist  in  England  a  manuscript  life  of  him 
composed  at  a  still  earlier  date.  Among  the  latest  and  best  works 
on  this  great  pope  are  Wisbaum,  "Die  wichtigsten  Einrichtungen 
und  Ziele  der  Thatigkeit  des  Papstes  Gregor  d.  Gr."  (Leipzig,  1885) ; 
Clausier,  "St.  Gregoire  le  Grand,  Pape  et  Docteur  de  i'Eglise" 
(Paris,  1886)  ;  C.  Wolfsgruber,  "Gregor  d.  Gr."  (Saulgau,  1800), 
and  the  articles  entitled  "II  Pontificate  di  S.  Gregorio  Magno  nella 
Storia  della  Civilta  Cristlana"  in  the  Civilta  Cattolica  (1890-93), 
Series  XIV. ,  Vols.  5-9,  and  XV.,  Vols.  1-5.  A  useful  account  of  his 
life  is  that  of  Abbot  Snow  in  the  "  Heroes  of  the  Cross  "  series  (Lon- 
don, Th.  Baker,  1897).  The  celebration  of  the  thirteenth  centenary 
of  his  death  (604)  will  doubtless  call  forth  many  learned  tributes  to 
his  manifold  greatness  and  significance.  His  relations  to  the  Em- 
peror Phocas  are  discussed  by  *  Fr.  Gorres  in  the  Zeitschrift  fur 
wissenschaftliche  Theologie  (1901),  Vol.  XLIV.,pp.  592-602,  and  the 
accusation  of  ignorantism,  by  *  R.  Labbadini,  "  Gregorio  Magno  e  la 
Grammatica,"  m  Bullettino  di  filologia  classica  (1902),  Vol.  VIIL, 
pp.  204-206,  259  ;  cf.  *  Fr.  and  P.  Bohringer,  "  Die  Vater  des  Paps- 
thums  Leo  I.  und  Gregor  I."  (Stuttgart,  1879),  in  the  new  edition 
of  "Die  Kirche  Christi  und  ihre  Zeugen."  The  asterisked  writers 
are  non-Catholic.  For  a  full  bibliography  of  Gregory  the  Great 
cf.  the  new  edition  of  Chevalier's  "  Repertoire  Historique  du  Moyen 
Age,"  and  the  second  edition  of  Potthast,  "Bibliotheca  Historica 
Medii  ^vi."  The  reader  may  consult  with  profit  the  historians 
of  the  City  of  Rome,  Gregorovius,  von  Reumont,  and  Grisar,  and  for 
a  literary  appreciation  of  the  pope  the  classical  (German)  work  of 
Ebert  on  the  "Latin  Literature  of  the  Early  Middle  Ages." 


JUSTINIAN   THE   GREAT    (A.D.   527-565). 

Perhaps  the  most  crucial  period  of  Christian 
history,  after  the  foundation  century  of  Christ 
and  the  apostles,  is  the  sixth  century  of  our  era. 
Then  goes  on  a  kind  of  clearing-house  settle- 
ment of  the  long  struggle  between  Christianity 
and  paganism.  It  was  no  false  instinct  that 
made  Dionysius  the  Little  begin,  shortly  before 
the  middle  of  that  century,  to  date  his  chronol- 
ogy from  the  birth  of  Christ,  for  then  disap- 
peared from  daily  use  the  oldest  symbols  of 
that  pagan  civil  power  which  had  so  strenuously 
disputed  with  the  new  religion  every  step  of  its 
progress.  The  annual  consulship  was  then  abol- 
ished, or  retained  only  by  the  emperor  as  an 
archaic  title.  That  immemorial  root  of  Roman 
magistracy,  the  thrice-holy  symbol  of  the  City's 
majestas,  could  rightly  pass  away  when  the  City 
had  fulfilled  its  mission  and  function  in  the 
ancient  world.  The  Roman  Senate,  too,  passed 
away  at  the  same  period  —  what  calls  itself 
the  Roman  Senate  at  a  later  time  is  a  purely 
local  and  municipal  institution.     The  old  relig- 

35 


36  JUSTINIAJSf   THE  GREAT. 

ion  of  Rome  was  finally  no  more  than  a  mem- 
ory. For  the  two  precedmg  centuries  it  had 
gone  on,  sullenly  shrinking  from  one  level  of 
society  to  another,  until  its  last  representatives 
were  an  individual  here  and  there,  hidden  in  the 
mighty  multitudes  of  the  Christian  people  of  the 
empire.^  The  schools  of  literature,  philosophy, 
and  rhetoric  were  no  longer  ensouled  with  the 
principles  of  Hellenism.  Their  last"  hope  was 
buried  when  the  Neoplatonists  of  Athens  took 
the  road  of  exile  to  beg  from  the  Great  King, 
that  born  enemy  of  the  Roman  name  —  the 
prophet  of  "  Medism  "  — ^  a  shelter  and  support.^ 
In  dress,  in  the  system  of  names,  in  the  popular 
literature,  in  the  social  institutes,  in  the  spoken 
language,'^  in  the  domestic  and  public  architec- 

1 V.  Schultze,  "  Untergang  des  griechisch-romischen  Heiden- 
tums  "  (Jena,  1892),  Vol.  II.,  pp.  385-389  ;  cf.  also  pp.  214,  215.  The 
documents  for  the  disappearance  of  Western  paganism  are  best  col- 
lected in  Beugnot,  "Histoire  de  la  destruction  du  paganisme  en 
Occident"  (2  vols.,  Paris,  1835).  Since  then  it  is  the  subject  of 
many  learned  works. 

2  Gregorovius,  "  Geschichte  der  Stadt  Athen  im  Mittelalter," 
Vol.  I.,  p.  58,  does  not  believe  that  any  formal  edict  was  issued  by 
Justinian  against  the  continuance  of  the  pagan  schools ;  they  lapsed 
into  desuetude. 

3  Bury,  "  The  Language  of  the  Romaioi  in  the  Sixth  Century," 
"  History  of  the  Later  Roman  Empire,"  Vol.  II.,  pp.  167-174;  Free- 
man, "  Some  Points  in  the  Later  History  of  the  Greek  Language," 
Journal  of  Hellenic  Studies,  Vol.  III.  (1882) ;  Tozer,  "The  Greek- 
speaking  Population  of  Southern  Italy,"  ibid.,  Vol.  X.,  pp.  11-42 
(1889). 


JUSTINIAN  THE  GREAT.  37 

ture,  in  the  spirit  of  the  law,  in  legal  procedure, 
in  the  character  of  city  government,  in  the  ad- 
ministration of  the  provinces,  in  the  very  con- 
cept of  the  State  and  of  empire,  there  are  so 
many  signs  that  the  old  order  passeth  away 
and  a  new  one  even  now  standeth  in  its  place. 
The  symptoms  of  internal  trouble,  noted  on  all 
sides  from  the  time  of  Marcus  Aurelius  and 
graphically  diagnosed  by  St.  Cyprian,  had  gone 
on  multiplying.  They  did  not  portend  that 
decay  which  is  the  forerunner  of  death,  as 
many  had  thought  while  the  ancient  society  was 
dissolving  before  their  eyes,^  but  that  decay 
which  is  the  agent  of  great  and  salutary 
changes.  Their  first  phase,  the  long  and 
eventful  Wandering  of  the  Nations,  had  broken 
up.  East  and  West,  the  old  framework  of  society 
as  the  Greek  and  Roman  had  inherited,  created, 
or  modified  it.  On  the  other  hand,  that  most 
thorough  of  all  known  forces,  the  spirit  of  Jesus 
Christ,  had  been  working  for  fifteen  generations 
in  the  vitals  of  this  ancient  society,  disturbing, 
cleansing,  casting  forth,  healing,  binding,  reno- 
vating, a  social  and  political  organism  that  — 

1  "Sic  quodcumque  nunc  nascitur  mundi  ipsius  senectute  de- 
generat,  ut  nemo  mirari  deberet  singula  in  mundo  deficere  coepisse, 
cum  ipse  jam  mundus  totus  in  defectione  sit  et  fine."  —  St.  Cyprian, 
"Ad  Demetrianum,"  c.  4,  ed.  Hartel. 


38  JUSTINIAN  THE  GREAT. 

"  Lay  sick  for  many  centuries  in  great  error." 

In  such  periods  of  history  much  depends  on 
the  ideals  and  character  of  the  man  or  men  who 
stand  at  the  helm  of  a  society  that  is  working 
its  way  through  the  straits  and  shoals  of  transi- 
tion. Was  it  not  fortunate  for  Europe  that  a 
man. like  Charlemagne  arose  on  the  last  limits 
of  the  old  classical  world,  with  heart  and  brain 
and  hand  enough  to  plan  and  execute  a  political 
basis  sufficiently  strong  to  hold  for  centuries 
to  come  the  new  States  of  Western  Christen- 
dom ? 

It  is  here  that  Justinian  enters  on  the  stage 
of  history  and  claims  a  place  higher  than  that 
of  Charlemagne,  second  to  that  of  no  ruler  who 
has  affected  for  good  the  interests  of  his  fellow- 
men.  He  is  not,  I  admit,  a  very  lovable  figure. 
He  stands  too  well  within  the  limits  of  the 
Grgeco-Roman  time  to  wear  the  illusive  halo 
of  Teutonic  romance.  But  in  the  history  of 
humankind  those  names  shine  longest  and 
brightest  which  are  associated  with  the  most 
•universal  and  permanent  benefits.  Is  he  a  bene- 
factor of  society  who  makes  two  blades  of  grass 
to  grow  where  but  one  grew  before  ?  Then  what 
shall  we  say  of  one  who  established  for  all  time 
the  immortal  princi|)les  of  order  and  justice  and 


JUSTINIAN  THE  GREAT.  39 

equity,  without  which  all  human  endeavor  is  un- 
certain and  usually  sinks  to  the  lowest  level  ?  ^ 

1  The  principal  authority  for  the  life  and  works  of  Justinian  is 
the  contemporary  Procopius,  the  secretary  and  lieutenant  of  Beli- 
sarius.  In  his  account  of  the  Gothic,  Vandal,  and  Persian  wars 
he  exhausts  the  military  history  of  the  empire.  His  work  on  the 
buildings  of  Justinian  and  the  "Anecdota"  or  "Secret  History" 
that  bears  his  name  are  entirely  devoted  to  the  emperor,  the  former 
in  adulation,  the  latter  in  virulent  condemnation.  Agathias,  also  a 
contemporary,  has  left  us  an  unfinished  work  on  the  reign  of  Jus- 
tinian that  deals  chiefly  with  the  wars  of  552-558.  To  John  Lydus, 
one  of  the  imperial  officers,  we  owe  an  account  of  the  civil  service 
under  Justinian.  Theophanes,  a  writer  of  the  end  of  the  sixth 
century,  has  left  some  details  of  the  career  of  the  emperor.  The 
"  Church  History  "  of  Evagrius  and  the  "  Breviarium  "  of  the  Car- 
thaginian deacon  Liberatus  are  of  first-class  value  for  the  ecclesi- 
astical events.  His  own  laws  (Codex  Constitutionum  and  Novelise) 
and  his  correspondence,  e.g.  with  the  bishops  of  Rome,  are  sources 
of  primary  worth,  as  are  also  at  this  point  the  "Liber  Pontificalis" 
and  the  correspondence  of  the  popes  with  Constantinople.  In  his 
chapters  on  Justinian,  Gibbon  follov/ed  closely  Le  Beau,  "Histoire 
du  Bas  Empire"  (Paris,  1757-84).  Among  the  general  historians 
of  Greece  in  the  past  century  who  deal  with  the  events  of  this  reign 
are  to  be  named  Finlay,  "  A  History  of  Greece"  from  its  conquest 
by  the  Romans  to  the  present  time  (146  b.c.  to  1864  a.d.),  new 
and  revised  edition  by  H.  F.  Tozer  (Oxford,  1877,  7  vols.)  ;  Bury, 
"  A  History  of  the  Later  Roman  Empire  from  Arcadius  to  Irene  " 
(395-800)  (2  vols.,  London,  1887).  The  German  histories  of  Greece 
by  Hopf  (1873),  Hertzberg  (1876-78),  Gregorovius  (histories  of 
mediaeval  Rome  and  Athens,  1889),  and  the  modern  Greek  histories 
of  Paparrigopoulos  (1887-88)  and  Lambros  (1888)  cover  the  same 
ground,  though  they  differ  considerably  in  method  and  apprecia- 
tions. There  is  an  "Histoire  de  Justinien "  (Paris,  1856),  by 
Isambert,  very  superficial  and  imperfect,  and  a  life  of  the  empress 
by  Debidour,  "L'lmp^ratrice  Theodora"  (Paris,  1885),  to  which 
may  be  added  Mallet's  essay  on  Theodora  in  the  English  Histori- 
cal Beview  for  January,  1887.  Several  essays  of  Gfrorer  in  his 
" Byzantinische  Geschichten"  (Graz,  3  vols.,  1872-77),  notably  pp. 
315-401,  are  both  instructive  and  picturesque.     For  all  questions 


40  JUSTINIAN  THE  GREAT, 

I. 

Justinian  was  born  in  482  or  483,  near  Sardica, 
the  modern  Sophia  and  capital  of  the  present 
kingdom  of  Bulgaria.  The  most  brilliant  of  his 
historians  says  that  he  came  of  an  obscure  race 
of  barbarians.^     Nevertheless,  in  an  empire  every 


of  chronology  pertaining  to  the  reign  of  Justinian  the  reader  may- 
consult  the  classic  work  of  Clinton,  "Fasti  Romani :  The  Civil  and 
Literary  Chronology  of  Rome  and  Constantinople"  (to  a.d.  641), 
(Oxford,  2  vols.,  1845-50)  ;  cf.  also  Muralt,  "  Essaide  Chronographie 
Byzantine"  (St.  Petersburg,  2  vols.,  1855-73),  and  H.  Gelzer, 
"  Sextus  Julius  Africanus  "  (Leipzig,  1880-85). 

An  attempt  has  been  made  to  collect  the  Greek  Christian  in- 
scriptions from  the  fifth  to  the  eighteenth  century.  "  Inscriptions 
Grecques  Chr^tiennes "  (St.  Petersburg,  1876-80),  pp.  11-143. 
Mgr.  Duchesne  and  M.  Homolle  promise  a  complete  "Corpus." 
Cf.  Bulletin  Critique  (October  5,  1900,  p.  556).  The  coins 
and  medals  of  the  period  are  best  illustrated  in  Schlumberger's 
"  Sigillographie  de  I'Empire  Byzantin"  (Paris,  1884),  a  work  that 
rounds  out  and  replaces  the  earlier  treatises  of  De  Saulcy,  Banduri, 
Eckel,  and  Cohen. 

1  It  is  worth  noting  that  the  Slavonic  origin  of  Justinian  has 
lately  been  called  in  question  by  James  Bryce,  English  Historical 
Review  (1887),  Vol.  II.,  pp.  657-686.  It  is  said  to  have  no  other 
foundation  than  the  biography  by  a  certain  Bogomilus  or  Theophilos, 
an  imaginary  teacher  of  Justinian.  This  biography  is  not  otherwise 
mentioned  or  vouched  for  than  in  the  Latin  life  of  Justinian  by 
Johannes  Marnavich,  Canon  of  Sebenico  (d.  1639).  Bryce  holds 
that  Marnavich  gives  us  only  echoes  of  a  Slavonic  saga  about  Jus- 
tinian. Jiricek  ("Archiv  fiir  Slavische  Philologie"  (1888),  Vol. 
II.,  pp.  300-304)  condemns  the  whole  story  as  a  forgery  of  Marna- 
vich. Thereby  would  fall  to  the  ground  all  that  Alemannus,  the  first 
editor  of  the  "Anecdota"  of  Procopius  (1623),  writes  concerning 
the  Slavonic  genealogy,  name,  etc.,  of  Justinian.  Cf.  Krumbacher, 
*'Geschichte  der  byzantinischen  Literatur"  (Munich,  1891),  p.  46. 


JUSTINIAN  THE  GEE  AT,  41 

soldier  carries  a  marshal's  baton  in  his  knapsack, 
and  an  uncle  of  Justinian  was  such  a  lucky 
soldier.  Justin  I.  (518-527)  may  have  been  quite 
such  another  "  paysan  du  Danube  "  as  Lafontaine 
describes  in  one  of  his  most  perfect  fables  (XI.  6) : 

"  Son  menton  nourriasait  une  barbe  touffue. 
Toute  sa  personne  velue 

Representait  un  ours,  mais  un  ours  mal  lechd. 
Sous  un  sourcil  epais  il  avait  I'oeil  cache, 
Le  regard  de  travers,  nez  tortu,  grosse  levre : 
Portait  sayon  de  poll  de  chevre, 
Et  ceinture  de  joncs  marins." 

He  may  have  been  not  unlike  the  good  Ursus 
in  "  Quo  Yadis/'  or  that  uncouth  Dacian  in 
"  Fabiola."  Certain  it  is  that  in  a  long  service 
of  fifty  years  he  rose  from  rank  to  rank  and 
succeeded,  with  universal  consent,  to  Anastasius 
when  that  hated  "Manichaean"  died  childless. 
The  peasants  of  Dacia  were  no  longer  butchered 
to  make  a  Roman  holiday  —  the  land  had  long 
been  Romanized,  had  even  furnished  the  empire 
with  a  succession  of  strong  and  intelligent 
rulers,  those  Illyrian  emperors  whom  Mr. 
Freeman  has  so  magisterially  described.  Jus- 
tin was  an  uneducated  barbarian,  and  cut  his 
signature  painfully  through  a  gold  stencil  plate, 
as  did  his  contemporary,  the  great  Ostrogoth 
Theodoric,  king  of  Italy.     Yet  he  had  the  wis- 


42  JUSTINIAN  THE  GBEAT. 

dom  of  experience,  the  accumulated  treasures  of 
the  sordid  Anastasius,  the  counsel  of  good  civil 
officers,  old  and  tried  friends  in  many  an  Isau- 
rian,  many  a  Persian,  campaign.  Above  all,  he 
had  the  devotiorf  of  his  youthful  nephew,  Jus- 
tinian. Possible  pretenders  to  the  throne  were 
removed  without  scruple  —  a  principle  that  has 
always  been  prevalent  by  the  Golden  Horn. 
Before  Justin  died  his  nephew  had  reached  the 
command  of  all  the  imperial  forces,  though 
never  himself  a  warlike  man.  In  527,  on  the 
death  of  his  uncle,  he  found  himself,  at  the  age 
of  thirty-six,  sole  master  of  the  Roman  Empire. 
It  was  no  poor  or  mean  inheritance  even  then, 
after  the  drums  and  tramplings  of  a  dozen  con- 
quests. The  West,  indeed,  was  gone  — it  seemed 
irretrievably.  At  Pa  via  and  Ravenna  the  royal 
Ostrogoth  governed  an  Italian  State  greater 
than  history  has  seen  since  that  time.  At  Tou- 
louse and  Barcelona  the  Visigoth  yet  disposed 
of  Spain  and  Southern  Gaul.  At  Paris  and 
Orleans  and  Soissons  the  children  of  Clovis 
meditated  vaguely  an  empire  of  the  Franks. 
The  Rhineland  and  the  eternal  hills  of  Plelvetia, 
where  so  much  genuine  Roman  blood  had  been 
spilled,  were  again  a  prey  to  anarchy.  Britain, 
that  pearl  of  the  empire,  was  the  scene  of  tri- 


JUSTINIAN  THE  GREAT,  43 

umphant  piracy,  the  new  home  of  a  half  dozen 
Low-Dutch  sea  tribes  that  had  profited  by  the 
great  State's  hour  of  trial  to  steal  one  of  her 
fairest  provinces,  and  were  obliterating  in  blood 
the  faintest  traces  of  her  civilizing  presence. 
Even  in  the  Orient,  where  the  empire  stood 
rocklike,  fixed  amid  the  seething  waters  of  the 
Bosphorus,  the  Hellespont,  and  the  Euxine,  it 
knew  no  peace.  The  ambition  of  the  Sassanids 
of  Persia  threatened  the  vast  level  plains  of 
Mesopotamia,  while  a  new  and  inexhaustible 
enemy  lifted  its  savage  head  along  the  Danube 
frontier  —  a  vague  complexus  of  Hunnish  and 
Slavonic  tribes,  terrible  in  their  numbers  and 
their  indefiniteness,  thirsting  for  gold,  amenable 
to  no  civilization,  rejoicing  in  rapine  and  mur- 
der and  universal  disorder.  Justinian  must 
have  often  felt,  with  Henry  the  Fourth,  that 
the  wet  sea-boy,  ^^  cradled  in  the  rude  imperious 
surge,"  was  happier  than  the  king.  Withal, 
the  empire  was  yet  the  only  Mediterranean 
State.  It  yet  held  Syria  and  Egypt.  Asia  Minor 
was  faithful.  The  Balkan  provinces,  though 
much  troubled,  and  poor  harassed  Greece  were 
imperial  lands. ^     The  empire  alone  had  navies 

1  The  political  geography  of  the  empire  in  the  sixth  century  may 
be  studied  in  "Hieroclis  Synecdemus,"  edition  of  Gustav  Parthey 


44  JUSTINIAN  THE  GREAT. 

and  a  regular  army,  drilled,  equipped,  officered.^ 
Alone  as  yet  it  had  the  paraphernalia  of  a  well- 
appointed  and  ancient  State  —  coinage,  roads, 
transportation,  justice,  law,  sure  sanction,  with 
arts  and  literature  and  all  that  is  implied  in  the 
fair  old  Latin  word  humanitas.  It  stood  yet 
for  the  thousand  years  of  endeavor  and  progress 
that  intervened  from  Herodotus  to  Justinian. 
And  well  it  was  for  humanity  that  its  destinies 
now  passed  into  the  hands  of  one  who  was 
penetrated  with  the  keenest  sense  of  responsi- 
bility to  God  and  man.  Though  he  reached  the 
highest  prize  of  life  before  his  prime,  it  has  been 
said  of  him  that  he  was  never  young.  The 
ashes  of  rebellion  and  insurrection  had  been 
smouldering  in  the  royal  city  since,  with  the 
death  of  Marcian  (457),  the  old,  firm,  Theodosian 
control  had  come  to  an  end.  The  frightful 
political  consequences  of  the  great  Monophysite 
heresy  that  was  born  with  the  Council  of  Chal- 
cedon  (451)  were  dawning  on  the  minds  of 
thoughtful  men.     The  Semitic  and  Coptic  Orient 

(Berlin,  1866).  Here  are  reprinted  the  "  Notitias  Episcopatuum  "  or 
catalogues  of  ecclesiastical  divisions  known  usually  as  the  ' '  Tac- 
tica."  Cf.  also  Banduri,  "  Imperium  Orientale  "  (Paris,  1711,  fol.)  ; 
"  Antiquitates  ConstantinopolitansB  "  (Paris,  1729,  fol.). 

1  Gf rorer,    "  Byzantinische   Studien,"   Vol.    II.,  pp.  401-436; 
"Das  byzantinische  Seewesen.'' 


JUSTINIAN   THE  GREAT,  45 

was  creating  that  shibboleth  which  would  serve 
it  for  a  thousand  years  against  Greek  and 
Eoman  —  a  blind  and  irrational  protest  against 
the  real  oppressions  and  humiliations  it  once 
underwent.  Of  its  own  initiative  the  empire 
had  abandoned,  for  good  or  for  ill,  its  historical 
basis  and  seat  —  Old  Rome.  It  had  quitted  the 
yellow  Tiber  for  the  Golden  Horn,  to  be  nearer 
the  scene  of  Oriental  conflict,  to  face  the  Sassa- 
nid  with  the  sea  at  its  back,  to  create  a  suitable 
forum  for  the  government  of  the  world,  where 
Christian  principles  might  prevail,  and  where  a 
certain  inappeasable  nemesis  of  secular  wrong 
and  injustice  would  not  haunt  the  imperial  soul 
as  on  the  Palatine.  But  in  the  change  of  capital 
one  thing  was  left  behind  —  perhaps  it  was  irre- 
movable—  the  soul  of  Old  Rome,  with  all  its 
stern  and  sober  qualities,  its  practical  cast  and 
temper,  its  native  horror  of  the  shifty  mysticism 
of  the  Orient  and  the  unreality  of  the  popular 
forms  of  Greek  philosophy.  There  is  some- 
thing pathetic  in  that  phrase  of  Gregory  the 
Great,  "  The  art  of  arts  is  the  government  of 
souls."  It  is  like  an  echo  of  the  sixth  book  of 
Vergil,  "  Tu  vero,  Romane,  imperare  memento." 
Perhaps  this  is  the  germ  of  solid  truth  in  the 
legend  that  Constantine  abandoned  the  civil  au- 


46  JUSTINIAN  THE  GREAT. 

thority  at  Rome  to  Pope  Silvester.  He  certainly 
did  abandon,  to  the  oldest  and  most  consistent 
power  on  earth,  —  a  power  long  since  admired  by 
an  Alexander  Severus  and  dreaded  by  a  Decius 
— that  rich  inheritar^ce  of  prestige  and  authority 
which  lay  embedded  in  the  walls  and  monuments 
of  ancient  Rome.  Within  a  century  something 
of  this  dawned  on  the  politicians  of  Constanti- 
nople and  lies  at  the  bottom  of  the  long  struggle 
to  help  its  bishop  to  the  ecclesiastical  control  of 
the  Orient.  In  history  there  are  no  steps  back- 
ward, and  we  need  not  wonder  that  Dante,  the 
last  consistent,  if  romantic,  prophet  of  the  em- 
pire, was  wont  to  shiver  with  indignation  at  the 
thought  of  the  consequences  of  this  act. 

But  if  they  lost  the  genuinely  Roman  soul  of 
government,  they  gained  a  Greek  soul.  It  was 
an  old  Greek  city  they  took  up  - —  Byzantium. 
Its  very  atmosphere  and  soil  were  reeking  with 
Hellenism,  whose  far-flung  outpost  it  had  long 
been.  History,  climate,  commerce,  industries, 
the  sinuous  ways  of  the  sea,  the  absence  of  Ro- 
man men  and  families,  the  contempt  for  the  pure 
Orientals,  forced  the  emperors  at  Constantinople 
from  the  beginning  into  the  hands  of  a  genuine 
local  Hellenism  that  might  hav.e  shed  its  old  and 
native  religion^  but  could  not  shed  its  soul,  its 


JUSTINIAN  THE  GREAT.  47 

immortal  spirit.  Henceforth  the  world  was 
governed  from  a  Christianized  Hellenic  centre.^ 
This  meant  that  government  for  the  future  was 
to  be  mingled  in  an  ever  increasing  measure 
with  metaphysics ;  that  theory  and  unreality, 
the  dream,  the  vision,  the  golden  hope,  all  the 
fleeting  elements  of  life,  were  to  have  a  large 
share  in  the  administration  of  things  civil  and 
ecclesiastical.    Government  was  henceforth  — 

"  Sicklied  o'er  with  the  pale  cast  of  thought." 

1  "  The  Greek  characteristics  of  the  empire  under  Justinian  are 
calculated  to  suggest  vividly  the  process  of  ebb  and  flow  which  is 
always  going  on  in  the  course  of  history.  Just  ten  centuries  be- 
fore Greek  Athens  was  the  bright  centre  of  European  civilization. 
Then  the  torch  was  passed  westward  from  the  cities  of  Hellenism, 
where  it  had  burned  for  a  while,  to  shine  in  Latin,  Rome.  Soon 
the  rivers  of  the  world,  to  adopt  an  expression  of  Juvenal,  poured 
into  the  Tiber.  Once  more  the  brand  changed  hands ;  it  was  trans- 
mitted from  the  temple  of  Capitoline  Jupiter,  once  more  eastward, 
to  a  city  of  the  Greek  world  —  a  world,  however,  which  now  dis- 
dained the  impious  name  'Hellenic'  and  was  called  'Romaic' 
By  the  shores  of  the  Bosphorus,  on  the  acropolis  of  Graeco-Roman 
Constantinople,  the  light  of  civilization  lived  pale  but  steady  for 
many  hundred  years  —  longer  than  it  had  shone  by  the  Ilissus, 
longer  than  it  had  gleamed  by  the  Nile  or  the  Orontes,  longer  than 
it  had  blazed  by  the  Tiber,  and  the  Church  of  St.  Sophia  was  the 
visible  symbol  of  as  great  a  historical  idea  as  those  which  the  Par- 
thenon and  the  Temple  of  Jupiter  had  represented,  the  idea  of  Euro- 
pean Christendom.  The  empire,  at  once  Greek  and  Roman,  the 
ultimate  results  to  which  ancient  history,  with  Greek  history  and 
Roman,  had  been  leading  up,  was  for  nine  centuries  to  be  the  bul- 
wark of  Europe  against  Asia,  and  to  render  possible  the  growth  of 
the  nascent  civilization  of  the  Teutonic  nations  of  the  West  by  pre- 
serving the  heritage  of  the  old  world."  —  Bury,  "History  of  the 
Later  Roman  Empire,"  Vol.  IL,  p.  39. 


48  JUSTINIAN  THE  GREAT, 

Cato,  it  is  said,  chased  the  Greek  philosophers 
from  Rome.  They  one  day  mounted  the  throne 
in  their  worst  shape,  the  shape  of  the  sophist,  in 
the  person  of  Marcus  Aurelius ;  but,  indeed,  they 
had  no  proper  place  in  Rome,  where  government 
has  always  tended  to  keep  its  head  clear  and 
calm,  with  eyes  fixed  on  the  actual  interest,  the 
average  practical  and  attainable.  Not  so  in  the 
Greek  Orient.  With  the  triumph  of  the  Chris- 
tian religion  the  gods  of  Hellas  fell  from  theii* 
rotten  pedestals.  But  they  were  never  the  gov- 
erning element,  the  principe  generateur  of  the 
Greek  life.  That  was  the  individual  reflective 
mind,  eternally  busy  with  the  reasons  of  things, 
seeking  the  why  and  the  how  and  the  wherefore, 
not  for  any  definite  purpose,  but  because  this 
restless  research  was  its  life,  its  delight ;  because 
at  bottom  it  was  highly  idealistic  and  despised 
the  outer  and  visible  world  as  an  immense  phe- 
nomenon, a  proper  and  commensurate  subject  for 
the  ruinous  gicidity  of  its  criticism. 

It  is  the  metaphysical  trend  and  spirit  of 
these  opmiosissimi  homines  of  Greece  which  be- 
gat the  great  heresies  of  Arius,  Macedonius,  Nes- 
torius,  and  Eutyches  —  all  Greeks.  They  even 
partially  conquered  in  their  defeat,  for  they  com- 
pelled, to  some  extent,  a  philosophical  refutation 


JUSTINIAN  THE  GREAT.  49 

of  their  own  vagaries;  they  helped  Plato,  and 
later  Aristotle,  to  their  high  seats  in  Christian 
schools.  With  sure  instinct  the  earliest  Chris- 
tian historians  of  heresies  set  down  among  them 
certain  phases  of  Greek  philosophy.  "  Quid 
Academice  et  Ecdesice  !  *'  cries  Tertullian  in  his 
book  on  Prescription,  as  though  he  smelled  the 
battle  from  afar. 

In  the  intense  passion  of  the  Arian  and  chris- 
tological  discussions  the  highest  Greek  gift, 
metaphysics,  and  the  finest  Greek  training,  dia- 
lectics, came  to  the  front.  In  every  city  of  the 
Greek  world  the  most  abstruse  and  fine-drawn 
reasoning  was  indulged  in  habitually  by  all 
classes.  The  heresy  of  Arius  had  surely  its  ob- 
scure origin  among  those  third-century  philoso- 
phers of  Antioch  who  gave  to  that  school  its 
grammatico-literal  and  rationalizing  trend.  He 
appeared  at  Nicaea  in  the  company  of  pagan 
philosophers,  and  when  defeated  carried  his 
cause  at  once  before  the  sailors  and  millers 
and  wandering  pedlers  along  the  sea  front  at 
Alexandria.  And  for  two  centuries  the  shop- 
keepers and  shoemakers  of  Constantinople  and 
Alexandria  would  rather  chop  logic  than  attend 
to  their  customers.  For  the  victories  of  the 
mind  the  burdens  of  the  State  were  neglected  or 


50  JUSTINIAN  THE  GREAT. 

forgotten,  or  rather  a  metaphysical  habit  of 
thought  was  carried  into  the  council  chamber, 
to  prevail  therein  very  often  to  the  detriment  of 
the  commonwealth.  The  great  officers  of  the 
State  were  too  often  doubled  with  theologians. 
The  emperor  himself  took  on  gradually  the 
character  of  an  apostolic  power,  with  God-given 
authority  to  impose  himself  upon  the  churches, 
formulate  creeds,  decide  the  knottiest  points  of 
divinity,  make  and  unmake  bishops  great  and 
small,  and  generally  to  become,  in  all  things,  a* 
visible  providence  of  God  on  earth  .^  This  is 
what  the  Eastern  world  acquired  by  losing  its 
Roman  emperors  and  gaining  a  succession  im- 
bued with  the  spirit  of  Hellenic  thought,  and 
accustomed  to  the  exercise  of  despotic  power  in 
a  city  that  had  no  old  and  stormy  republican  tra- 
ditions, being  no  more  than  the  high  golden  seat 
of  imperial  authority  from  its  foundation.  Were 
it  not  for  the  magnificent  resistance  of  Old  Rome 
in  her  Leos  and  her  Gregorys,  the  Oriental  bish- 
ops would  have  allowed  the  cause  of  Christianity 
to  become  identified  with  the  Csesaro-papism  of 
the  emperors. 

If  we  add  to  the  loss  or  absence  of  desirable 

1  Cf.    Rambaud,   "  L'Empereur    Byzantiu,"   Bevue  des  Deux 
Mondes  (1891). 


JUSTINIAN   THE  GREAT.  51 

Roman  qualities  on  the  part  of  these  great  gov- 
ernors of  imperial  society,  and  the  acquisition  of 
undesirable  Greek  qualities,  certain  influences  of 
the  Orient,  we  shall,  perhaps,  better  understand 
the  situation  in  which  Justinian  found  himself. 
It  was  noted  very  early  that  in  contact  with  the 
Orient  the  extremely  supple  and  impressionable 
Greek  genius  suffered  morally.  It  lost  its  old 
Dorian  or  Argive  independence,  and,  stooping  to 
conquer,  took  on  the  outward  marks  of  seiVitude 
while  dwelling  internally  in  its  own  free  illimit- 
able world  of  opinion  and  criticism.  Long  wars, 
commerce,  travel,  especially  prolonged  sojourns 
in  corrupting  Persia,  had  habituated  the  Eastern 
Greeks  to  political  absolutism.  Since  Alexander 
the  habits  of  servile  subjection  of  their  own  con- 
quered populations  of  Syria  and  Egypt  were  in- 
fluential in  this  direction.  The  Roman  emperors 
from  Diocletian  on  were  themselves  caught  by 
the  externals  of  the  Great  King's  court,  and 
seem  to  have  transferred  much  of  its  ceremonial 
to  their  own.  The  presence  in  Constantinople 
of  a  great  multitude  of  miscellaneous  Orientals 
and  the  exaggeration  of  style  and  rhetoric  pecul- 
iar to  this  as  to  all  other  times  of  decadence, 
added  strength  to  this  current  servilism. 


62  JUSTINIAN  THE  GREAT. 


II. 


The  great  problem  tliat  faced  Justinian  on  his 
accession  was  the  very  character  and  limits  of  the 
Roman  State  for  the  future.  Were  the  en- 
croachments of  one  hundred  years,  the  extinction 
of  the  Imperium  in  the  West,  to  be  finally  con- 
doned to  those  victorious  Germans  who  in  the 
last  century  had  absorbed  the  political  control  of 
Italy,  Gaul,  Africa,  Spain,  Sicily  ?  Or  should  an 
effort  be  made  to  reestablish  again  an  orhis  ter- 
rarum,  the  ancient  world-wide  cycle  of  imperial 
authority  ?  Should  Carthage,  Milan,  Ravenna, 
Trier,  Rome  itself,  be  forever  renounced;  or  must 
one  last  struggle  be  made  to  win  back  the  cra- 
dle of  the  empire  and  the  scene  of  its  first  con- 
quests ?  Every  possible  argument  pointed  in  an 
affirmative  sense  —  the  raison  d'etat,  the  relig- 
ious considerations  and  influences,  the  demands 
of  commerce  and  industry,  the  incredibly  strong 
passion  of  sentiment  evoked  by  the  memories 
and  glory  of  Old  Rome.  In  the  heart  of  Justin- 
ian burned  the  feelings  of  a  CaBsar  and  a  Cru- . 
sader,  a  great  trader  and  carrier  of  the  Royal 
City,  and  a  Hellene  scandal-stricken  at  the  over- 
flow of  barbarism  and  ''  Medism  "  that  was  foul- 
ing all  the  fair  and  sweet  uses  of  life.     In  the 


JUSTINIAN  THE  GREAT,  68 

person  of  Belisarius  he  found  a  worthy  general, 
one  of  the  most  intelligent  and  resourceful  men 
who  ever  led  troops  into  action.  He  found  also 
for  Belisarius  a  secretary,  Procopius,  who  has 
left  us  a  brilliant  record  of  the  great  campaigns 
by  which  the  ancient  lands  of  the  empire  were 
won  back.  For  twenty-five  years  the  world  of 
the  Mediterranean  resounded  with  the  din  of 
universal  war.  Around  the  whole  periphery 
of  empire  went  on  the  work  of  preparation,  a 
thousand  phases  of  mortal  conflict,  a  thousand 
sieges,  truces,  and  bloody  battles.  Belisarius 
broke  the  short-lived  and  fanatic  Vandal  power 
in  531,  and  Carthage,  so  dearly  bought  with 
Roman  blood,  was  again  a  Roman  city.  Jus- 
tinian lived  to  see  the  heroic  resistance  of  the 
Ostrogoths  made  vain,  after  the  death  of  their 
noble  king,  by  the  total  subjugation  of  Italy 
and  its  reincorporation  with  the  empire.  In 
the  meantime  the  great  corn-granary  of  the  em- 
pire, Sicily,  was  won  back,  and  the  constant  fear 
of  famine  tliat  hung  over  Constantinople  and 
the  army  disappeared.  Scarcely  had  he  relief 
in  Africa  or  Italy  when  the  emperor  moved  his 
troops  to  the  plains  of  Mesopotamia  or  even  to 
the  rocky  fastnesses  of  Colchis,  the  modern 
Georgia,  chastening  at  once  the  proud  Mede  and 


54  JXISTINIAN  THE  GEE  AT. 

the  fierce  shepherds  of  those  inaccessible  hills. 
With  the  exception  of  the  Persian  campaigns, 
these  wars  ended  successfully  for  the  Roman 
State.  One  last  outpouring  of  Teutons  —  the 
long  advancing  Lombards  —  wrenched  away 
Northern  Italy  from  the  immediate  successor  of 
Justinian  and  interposed  a  hopeless  barrier 
against  any  attempts  to  reconquer  Austria,  Switz- 
erland, and  Bavaria.  But  Central  and  Southern 
Italy  were  saved.  A  praetorian  prefect  was  set 
over  Northern  Africa  ;  Sardinia  and  Corsica  were 
once  more  integrant  portions  of  the  great  Medi- 
terranean State.  A  praetor  again  governed  in 
Sicily  as  in  the  days  of  Cicero.  From  the  inac- 
cessible marshes  of  Ravenna  an  exarch  or  patri- 
cian ruled  the  remnants  of  the  Roman  name  in 
the  original  home  of  that  race.  Even  in  Spain 
Justinian  recovered  a  footing,  and  several  cities 
of  the  coast  recognized  again  the  authority  that 
had  so  long  civilized  the  Iberian  peninsula. 

Doubtless  it  was  owing  to  the  incredible  exi- 
gencies of  the  Persian  wars  that  Central  Eu- 
rope swept  finally  out  of  the  immediate  vision 
of  the  emperor.  The  men,  ships,  moneys,  and 
efforts  of  all  kinds  that  it  took  to  carry  on  these 
long  and  costly  and  unsatisfactory  campaigns 
against  the  Persian,  could  well  have  availed  to 


JUSTINIAN   THE  GREAT,  55 

reunite  the  lost  lands  of  the  West  and  to  make 
the  Rhine  and  the  Danube  again  Roman  rivers. 
The  interest  in  the  island  of  Britain  grew  so 
faint  that  it  appears  in  Procopius  only  as  the 
home  of  innumerable  spirits,  a  vast  cemetery  of 
ghosts  ferried  over  nightly  from  Gaul  by  terrified 
mariners  who  are  chosen  in  turn  and  compelled 
by  supernatural  force  .^ 

The  Frank  went  on  absorbing  at  his  leisure 
the  Rhineland,  Switzerland,  Bavaria,  Southern 
Gaul,  and  threatened  to  sweep  Spain  and  North- 
ern Italy  into  his  State.^  Indeed,  out  of  the 
fragments  that  escaped  Justinian  and  Belisarius, 
the  greatest  of  the  Frankish  race,  the  mighty 
Karl,  would  one  day  resurrect  the  Roman  Em- 
pire in  the  West.  If  Justinian  did  not  recover 
all  the  Western  Empire,  at  least  he  brought  to 
an  end  the  Germanic  invasions  by  exterminating 
Vandal  and  Ostrogoth  and  reestablishing  in  the 
West  some  formal  and  visible  image  of  the  old 
Roman  power  and  charm.     Henceforth  Thuringi- 

1  Nothing  could  illustrate  more  forcibly  the  thoroughness  of  the 
decadence  of  the  old  Roman  power  in  the  West  than  the  presence 
in  Procopius  of  this  curious  survival  of  old  Druidic  lore.  Cf. 
Edouard  Schur^,  "  Les  Grandes  L^gendes  de  France  "  (Paris,  1892), 
p.  154. 

'■2  Gasqurt,  "  1/ Empire  Byzantin  et  la  Monarchic  franque " 
(Paris,  1888)  ;  Lecny  de  la  Marche,  "  La  Fondation  de  la  France 
au  V.  et  VI.  slides  "  (Paris,  1893). 


56  JUSTINIAN  THE  GREAT, 

ans,  Burgundians,  Alemans,  Visigoths,  Suevi, 
Alans,  the  whole  Golden  Horde  of  tribes  that 
first  broke  down  the  bounds  of  the  empire,  tend 
to  disappear,  submerged  in  the  growing  Prank- 
ish unity.  The  one  unfortunate  race  that  came 
last  —  the  Lombards  —  was  destined  to  be  utterly 
broken  up  between  the  three  great  Western 
powers  of  the  two  succeeding  centuries,  the  chil- 
dren of  Pepin  Heristal,  the  Byzantine  exarchs  of 
Italy,  and  the  bishops  of  Rome.  Could  Justin- 
ian have  kept  the  line  of  the  Danube  free  and 
secure,  the  course  of  mediaeval  history  would 
surely  have  been  changed.  This  was  the  origi- 
nal weak  spot  of  the  empire,  and  had  always 
been  recognized  as  such.  Trajan  tried  to  Roman- 
ize the  lands  just  across  it  —  the  ancient  Dacia 
—  but  his  successor,  Marcus  Aurelius,  had  to 
withdraw.  An  inexhaustible  world  of  miscella- 
neous barbarians  —  an  officina  gentium — ^was  at 
the  back  of  every  frequent  rebellion,  and  their 
warriors  were  like  the  leaves  of  the  summer 
forest.  Here,  too,  was  the  fateful  margin  of 
empire,  along  which  broke  eventually  the  last 
surges  of  every  profound  social  or  economic 
disturbance  of  the  far  Orient,  flinging  across 
the  great  river  in  wild  disorder  Hun  and  Slav 
and  Avar  and   Gepid   and   Bulgar.     The   first 


JUSTINIAN  THE  GREAT,  57 

encroachments  on  Roman  life  and  security  cul- 
minated, after  a  century  of  warfare,  in  the  ever 
memorable  campaigns  and  retreats  of  Attila. 
And  when  the  empire  of  the  mighty  Hun  fell 
apart  at  his  death,  the  Germans,  Slavs,  Bulgars, 
and  other  non-Hunnic  tribes  whom  he  had 
governed  from  his  Hungarian  village,  took  up 
each  its  own  bandit  life  and  divided  with  the 
Hunnic  tribes  the  wild  joys  of  annual  incursions 
into  those  distracted  provinces  that  are  now  the 
modem  kingdoms  of  the  Balkans  and  Greece, 
but  were  then  Illyricum,  Moesia,  Thrace,  Thes- 
saly,  Macedonia,  Epirus.  The  Avars  and  the 
Huns,  remnants  perhaps  of  the  horde  of  Attila, 
were  the  most  dreaded  in  the  time  of  Justinian. 
But  they  only  alternated  with  the  Slavs,  to 
whom  they  gave  way  within  a  century,  so  end- 
less was  the  supply  of  this  new  family  of  bar- 
barism. These  latter  were  tall,  strong,  blond, 
with  ruddy  hair,  living  in  rude  hovels  and  on 
the  coarsest  grain,-  fiercely  intolerant  of  any  rule 
but  that  of  the  father  of  the  family,  jealous  and 
avaricious,  faithless  like  all  barbarians,  yet  child- 
like in  their  admiration  for  power  and  grandeur. 
They  harassed  yearly  the  whole  immense  pen- 
insula of  the  Balkans.  They  climbed  its  peaks, 
threaded  its  valleys,  swam  its  rivers,  a  visitation 


58  JUSTINIAN  THE  GREAT. 

of  human  locusts.  The  regular  armies  of  Jus- 
tinian were  of  no  ayail,  for  these  multitudes 
fought  only  in  ambuscade,  a  style  of  warfare 
peculiarly  fitting  to  the  Balkans,  which  are  like 
the  "Bad  Lands"  of  Dakota  on  an  immense 
scale.  They  shot  poisoned  arrows  at  the  Romans 
from  invisible  perches,  and  at  close  quarters 
were  dread  opponents  by  reason  of  their  short 
and  heavy  battle-axes.  It  was  in  vain  that  line 
within  line  of  fortifications  were  built,  that  in 
isolated  spots  the  watch-towers  and  forts  were 
multiplied  and  perfected,  that  every  ford  and 
pass  and  cross-road  had  its  sentry  boxes  and 
castles.  The  enemy  had  been  filtering  in  from 
the  time  of  Constantine/  and  was  already  no 
small  element  of  the  native  population.  So,  as 
German  had  called  to  German  across  the  Rhine, 
Slav  called  to  Slav  across  the  Danube ;  the  Ro- 
mans were  caught  between  the  hammer  and  the 
anvil,  between  the  barbarian  within  and  his 
brother  from  without.  Nevertheless,  it  was  not 
without  a  struggle  that  filled  four  centuries  more 
that  Constantinople  let  go  her  mountain  bul- 
wark.    Every  river  ran  red,  and  every  hillside 

10.  Seeck,  "Geschichte  des  Untergangs  der  antiken  Welt," 
(Berlin,  1897),  Vol.  I.,  Part  II.,  c.  6 ;  "Die  Barbaren  im  Reich," 
pp.  391-548. 


JUSTINIAN    THE  GREAT,  59 

was  drenched  with  blood,  in  that  memorable 
contest,  in  which  she  sometimes  saw  from  the 
walls  of  the  Royal  City  the  plains  of  Thrace 
one  smoking  ruin,  and  again  all  but  cut  off, 
root  and  branch,  her  Slavonic  and  Bulgarian 
enemies.^ 

Doubtless  the  heart  of  Justinian  was  sore 
pressed  at  his  impotency  against  the  swarming 
Slavs  and  Avars.  He  loved  his  Illyrian  home, 
and  built  on  the  site  of  his  native  village  a  city, 
Justiniana  Prima  (near  Sophia),  which  he  fondly 
hoped  would  be  a  new  Byzantium  in  the  Bal- 
kans. With  a  foreconscious  eye  he  made  it  a 
bishopric,  even  a  patriarchate,  and  ordered  for 
it  honors  second  only  to  those  of  the  most 
ancient  sees  of  the  Christian  world.  This  act 
was  productive  of  grave  consequences  in  later 
times  that  fall  beyond  our  present  ken." 

The  long  wars  of  Justinian  with  Persia  were 
otherwise  important.    Here  it  was  a  death  strug- 


1  The  influence  of  Constantinople  in  the  later  Slavonic  world  is 
incontestable.  Besides  the  "Chronicle  of  Nestor"  (French  trans- 
lation by  L.  Leger,  Paris,  1884),  cf.  Gaster,  "  Grseco-Sclavonic " 
(London,  1877);  Rambaud,  "La  Russie  Epique"  (Paris,  1876); 
Krek,  "Einleitung  in  die  Slavische  Literatur-geschichte "  (Graz, 
1877),  pp.  461-473  ;  and  the  pro-Byzantine  work  of  Lamansky  (in 
Russian),  "  On  the  Historical  Study  of  the  Grseco-Sclavonic  World  " 
(St.  Petersburg,  1871). 

2  Duchesne,  "  Les  Eglises  Sdpar^es"  (Paris,  1897). 


60  JUSTINIAN   THE  GREAT. 

gle  between  Persia  striving  to  reach,  the  sea  and 
Constantinople  struggling  to  keep  her  back. 
These  wars  lasted  more  or  less  continuously 
from  528  to  562,  and  sometimes  coincided  with 
the  greatest  expeditions  in  the  West.  From 
time  to  time  a  peace  was  concluded  or  a  truce  — 
the  peaces  were  really  only  truces.  The  usual 
result  was  the  payment  of  a  heavy  tribute  on 
the  part  of  the  emperor,  amounting  at  times  to 
as  much  as  a  million  dollars,  not  to  speak  of  the 
numerous  sums  paid  by  the  cities  of  Mesopotamia 
and  Syria,  and  the  incalculable  treasures  carried 
off  in  each  of  these  campaigns.  If  the  Persian 
resented  new  fortifications  in  the  vicinity  of  the 
Euphrates,  war  was  declared.  If  the  Saracen 
sheiks  who  stood  with  the  Romans  fell  into  a 
dispute  with  their  brethren  who  served  Persia 
over  a  desert  sheepwalk,  it  was  settled  by  a 
long  war  between  the  Romans  and  the  Persians. 
Endless  sieges  of  fortified  cities,  heavy  ransoms 
from  pillage  and  burning,  extraordinary  single 
combats,  marching  and  countermarching  across 
Syria  and  Mesopotamia,  fill  the  pages  of  the 
historians.  The  local  Jews  and  Samaritans,  yet 
numerous  and  powerful,  were  no  small  source 
of  weakness  to  the  Romans.  So,  too,  were  the 
ugly  heresies  of  the  Monophysites  and  Nestori- 


JUSTINIAN  THE  GREAT.  61 

ans,  with  all  the  hatreds  and  heartburnings  they 
occasioned  against  Constantinople,  the  protec- 
tress of  the  orthodox  faith  of  Chalcedon,  a 
general  council  almost  universally  misunder- 
stood, and  equally  hated  in  Syria  and  Egypt. 
In  532,  for  example,  Justinian  purchased  peace 
for  eleven  thousand  Roman  pounds  of  gold 
(about  two  and  a  half  millions  of  dollars).  He 
was  then  in  the  throes  of  the  Vandal  war  in  Af- 
rica and  on  the  point  of  the  expeditions  against 
the  Moors  and  to  recover  Sicily.  When  Belisa- 
rius  was  in  the  very  heart  of  the  Gothic  war  in 
Italy,  Chosroes  again  broke  the  peace,  solicited 
by  Witigis,  the  head  of  the  Gothic  forces,  and 
joined  by  many  dissatisfied  Armenians,  who  con- 
sidered themselves  oppressed  by  the  Romans  — 
perhaps,  too,  embittered  by  the  persecution 
directed  against  the  Monophysites. 

In  their  own  way  these  wars  are  of  value  for 
the  history  of  military  engineering.  Great  and 
ancient  cities  fall  before  the  engineers  of  Persia. 
Antioch,  the  Queen  of  the  East,  for  the  second 
time  saw  a  Persian  king  within  her  walls. 
Chosroes  even  reached  the  shores  of  the  Medi- 
terranean, gazed  on  the  great  Midland  Sea, 
bathed  in  its  blue  waters,  and  on  its  shores 
offered  to  the  sun  the  sacrifice  of  a  fire-worship- 


62  JUSTINIAN  THE  GREAT, 

per.  He  had  strong  hopes  of  reaching  and  con- 
quering Jerusalem  and  of  bringing  all  Syria 
under  his  yoke,  but  desisted  therefrom.  Inter- 
nal disorders  and  the  plague  seem  to  have  held 
him  back.  The  last  phase  of  these  Persian  wars 
was  unrolled  at  the  extremity  of  the  Black  Sea, 
among  the  Lazi,  in  old  Greek  Colchis,  the  land 
of  the  Golden  Fleece,  now  Mingrelia  and  Geor- 
gia. The  people  were  Christians  and  under  an 
uncertain  Roman  protectorate.  But  they  abut- 
ted on  an  unruly  portion  of  the  Persian  Empire, 
and  so  were  a  thorn  in  the  side  of  Chosroes. 
Moreover,  he  had  long  desired  a  footing  on  the 
Black  Sea,  whence  he  could  create  a  navy  that 
would  place  Constantinople  at  his  mercy  and 
permit  him  to  come  into  easy  contact  with  those 
Huns  and  Slavs  and  Avars  who,  from  the 
mouths  of  the  Danube  and  the  plains  of  Bes- 
sarabia and  Southern  Russia,  were  harassing  the 
Royal  City.  Hence  the  great  importance  of  the 
long  and  weary  struggle  for  the  wild  and  barren 
hills  of  ■  the  Caucasian  seashore.  They  were 
doubly  important,  because  these  narrow  passes 
could  keep  back  or  let  in  the  trans-Caucasian 
Scythians  and  create  a  new  source  of  ills  for  a 
State  groaning  already  under  a  complication 
of  them.     In  the  end  the  Persian  was  shut  out, 


JUSTINIAN  THE  GEE  AT,  63 

chiefly  because,  the  population  was  Christian  and 
unsympathetic  to  him,  but  not  without  a  war  of 
seven  years'  duration,  filled  with  romantic  epi- 
sodes and  revealing  at  orice  all  the  weaknesses 
and  also  the  strong  points  of  the  Koman  mili- 
tary system.  The  victory,  as  usual,  cost  a  nota- 
ble sum  of  money.  Justinian  agreed  to  pay 
about  one  hundred  thousand  •  dollars  yearly  for 
fifty  years,  of  which  nearly  a  million  dollars  had 
to  be  paid  d6wn  at  once.  Nevertheless,  he  kept 
the  Persians  from  becoming  a  naval  power  and 
from  undertaking  the  anti-Christian  propaganda 
that  a  century  later  fell  to  the  yet  despised 
Arabs  and  Saracens  who  were  serving  in  both 
armies,  unconscious  that  on  the  great  dial  of 
time  their  hour  was  drawing  nigh. 

For  the  thirty-eight  and  odd  years  of  his  reign 
the  emperor  was  never  free  from  care  as  to  the 
existence  and  limits  of  the  State.  It  was  no 
ordinary  merit  to  have  provided  for  the  defence 
of  the  common  weal  in  all  that  time,  to  have 
recovered  a  great  part  of  what  his  predecessors 
had  lost,  to  have  restored  the  prestige  of  the 
empire  over  against  Frank  and  Ostrogoth,  to 
have  kept  Persia  in  her  ancient  limits,  and  to 
have  saved  the  Royal  City  from  the  fate  of  Old 
Rome,   which   had   fallen   before   the   first   on- 


64  JUSTINIAN  THE  GREAT. 

slaught  of  Alaric.  No  doubt  he  had  able  gen- 
erals—  Belisarius,  Bessas,  John  the  Armenian, 
DagisthaBus,  Wilgang,  and  others.  It  was  an 
age  of  mechanical  inventions  and  engineering 
skill,  the  result  of  good  studies  among  the 
ancient  books  and  also  of  new  needs  and  experi- 
ences.^ The  peculiar  character  of  the  barbarian 
wars  and  the  multitude  of  old  populous  cities 
through  the  Roman  Orient  gave  opportunity 
for  the  development  of  fortifications.  By  this 
means  chiefly,  it  would  seem,  the  emperor  hoped 
to  withstand  the  attacks  of  his  enemies. 


III. 

The  armies  of  Justinian  were  recruited  on 
pretty  much  the  same  principle  as  those  of 
his  predecessors.  Since  Diocletian  and  Constan- 
tine,  conquered  barbarians  had  become  the  mer- 
cenaries of  the  empire  and  received  regularly, 
as   wages,  the   gold  which   they  had   formerly 

1  In  the  "  Variae"  of  Cassiodorus  are  found  many  curious  con- 
temporary traces  of  the  survival  of  the  ancient  skill  in  engineering 
and  architecture.  Cf.  the  formula  (VII.  6)  for  the  appointment 
of  a  Count  of  the  Aqueducts,  and  (VII.  15)  for  the  appointment 
of  an  "Architectus  operum  publicorum."  "Let  him  consult  the 
works  of  the  ancients,  but  he  will  find  more  in  this  city  [Rome] 
'than  in  his  books."  The  "Letters  of  Cassiodorus"  are  partially 
translated  by  Thomas  Hodgkin  (London,  1886). 


JUSTINIAN  THE  GBEAT,  65 

extorted  by  the  irregular  and  uncertain  methods 
of  invasion  and  plunder.  Isauria  in  all  its  in- 
accessible strongholds  became  a  pepiniere  of 
soldiers  for  the  empire  just  as  soon  as  it  had 
been  demonstrated  to  these  untameable  hill-folk 
that  Constantinople  would  no  longer  tolerate 
their  impudent  independence.  The  Catholic 
"  Little  Goths  "  of  Thrace  were  good  for  many 
a  recruit. 

The  disbanded  and  chiefless  Heruli,  ousted 
from  Italy  by  Theodoric,  were  at  the  disposition 
of  the  emperor.  Sometimes  the  barbarians 
came  in  as  foederati  or  as  coloni,  half  soldiers, 
half  farmers.  Sometimes  they  rose  to  the  high- 
est offices  by  bravery  and  intelligence,  like  a 
Dagisthseus,  a  John,  a  Wilgang,  a  Guiscard,  five 
hundred  years  ahead  of  that  other  Guiscard,  who 
was  to  beard  in  Constantinople  itself,  the  suc- 
cessor of  Justinian.  It  was  a  heyday  for  all  the 
barbarian  adventurers  of  the  world.  Never  since 
the  palmy  days  of  Crassus  and  Caesar,  of  Antony 
and  Germanicus,  was  there  war  at  once  so  griev- 
ous and  widespread,  so  varied  in  its  fields  of  battle, 
and  claiming  so  much  endurance,  ingenuity,  and 
industry.  Then  was  in  demand  all  that  the  art 
of  sieges  had  gained  since  the  Homeric  pirates 
sat  down  before  some  lone  Greek  trader  on  his 


66  JUSTINIAN  THE  GEE  AT. 

isolated  perch  in  the  ^gean.  If  Shakespeare's 
Welsh  captain  could  read  of  the  famous  sieges 
of  Daras  and  Edessa,  his  soul  would  go  up  in 
flame  for  joy  at  these  wars  carried  on  with  all 
the  science  of  a  dozen  Caesars.  Trench  and 
counter-trench,  wall  and  parapet,  ditch  and  mine, 
tower  and  rampart,  battering  ram  and  beam  and 
wedge  —  a  hundred  industries  were  kept  going 
to  lay  low  the  huge  fortifications  of  monolith 
and  baked  brick  that  dotted  the  land  of  Eastern 
Syria  and  Mesopotamia.  Indeed,  it  was  by  his 
enormous  system  of  fortifications  that  the  great 
emperor  assured  the  restored  peace  of  his 
domains. 

It  is  true,  as  Montesquieu  has  said,  that 
"  France  was  never  so  weak  as  when  every  vil- 
lage was  fortified.''  Yet  under  the  circum- 
stances this  was  the  only  immediate  remedy 
against  countless  enemies  from  without  and 
within,  ceaselessly  plotting  the  ruin  of  the  ven- 
erable old  State.  The  best  national  defences 
are  those  which  we  can  most  easily  set  up  and 
most  strongly  defend,  not  what  the  theorist  or 
philosopher  of  war  can  suggest.  From  Belgrade 
to  the  Black  Sea,  from  the  Save  to  the  Dan- 
ube, citadels  with  garrisons  and  colonies  were  lo- 
cated and  provided  with  weapons  of  defence  and 


JUSTINIAN  THE  GBEAT.  67 

attack.  In  Greece,  Macedonia,  Thrace,  Thessaly, 
over  six  hundred  forts  were  established  for 
observation  and  resistance.  Many  of  them, 
perhaps,  were  such  watch-towers  and  lonely  bar- 
racks as  we  yet  see  in  the  Roman  Campagna, 
whither  the  shepherd  and  his  herd  could  turn 
for  a  momentary  refuge  from  marauders. 

All  the  scum  of  the  northeastern  world  was 
floating  loosely  over  the  plains  of  Southern 
Russia,  faintly  held  back  by  the  Greek  cities  of 
the  Crimea.  The  peninsula  of  Greece  was  par- 
ticularly open;  the  unwarlike  character  of  its 
thin  population  was  patent  since  Alaric  had 
burned  and  pillaged  his  way  across  it  in  all 
directions  early  in  the  fifth  century.  Since  then 
its  woes  are  best  described  by  dropping  a  black 
pall  across  the  annals  of  one  hundred  years. 

"  The  centre  of  earth's  noblest  ring  " 

was  a  howling  desert,  save  for  a  few  cities  in 
which,  perhaps,  the  old  Greek  blood  was  propa- 
gated, and  some  spark  of  the  philosophic  mind 
nursed   against   a   better    day.^      The    pass   of 

1  "If  we  go  to  look  in  modern  Greece  for  pure  and  unmixed 
Hellenes,  untainted  by  any  drop  of  barbarian  blood,  that  we  as- 
suredly shall  not  find.  .  .  .  The  Greek  nation,  in  short,  has,  like 
all  other  nations,  been  affected,  and  largely  affected,  by  the  law  of 
adoption.  .  .  .  The  Sclavonic  occupation  of  a  large  part  of  Greece 
in  the  eighth  and  ninth  centuries  is  an  undoubted  fact,  and  the 


68  JUSTINIAN  THE  GREAT. 

Thermopylae  was  again  fortified  and  garrisoned. 
The  Isthmus  of  Corinth  was  strengthened  as  a 
buffer  for  the  wild  Peloponnesus,  half-heathen  as 
it  still  was  in  its  remotest  valleys  and  hillsides. 
The  long  wall  of   Thrace  that  protected  the 
kitchen-garden   suburbs  of   Constantinople  was 
strengthened  —  not  so  well,  however,  that  irregu- 
lar bands  of  Huns,  Avars,  and  Slavs  did  not  reg- 
ularly break  through  and  insult  the  holy  majesty 
of  the  empire  with  their  barbarian  taunts,  that 
mingled  with  the  flames  of  costly  churches  and 
municipal   buildings   and  with  the  cries  of  the 
dying  and  the  outraged.     As  we   peruse   these 
annals  it   is   hard  to  keep  back  a  tear  and  a 
shudder,  and  we  comprehend  the  preternatural 
gravity  that  hangs  about  every  coin  and  e^gy 
of  Justinian.     To  him  it  must  have  seemed  as  if 
the  original  sanctity  of  order,  the  rock  basis  of 
society,   were   tottering  to   its   fall.     Alas!   he 
could  not  see  that  those  flames  which  lit  up  the 
Propontis  and  the  Isles  of   the  Princes,^  which 
fell  across  the  site  of  ancient  Troy  and  the  origi- 
nal homes  of  Dorian  and  Ionian  merchants,  were 
not  the  awful  illumination  of  a  "  Night  of  the 

Sclavonic  element  in  the  population  of  Peloponnesus  may  be  traced 
down  to  the  time  of  the  Ottoman  conquest."  —  Freeman,  "Medi- 
seval  and  Modern  Greece,"  op.  cit.^  pp.  340-841. 

1  Schlumberger,  "  Les  lies  des  Princes"  (Paris,  1884). 


JUSTINIAN  THE  GREAT.  69 

Gods/'  but  the  dawn  of  our  modern  society.^ 
In  such  pangs  and  throes  does  social  man  usually 
reach  his  highest  place,  his  highest  calling  on 
this  sad  footstool  of  earth ! 

Though  the  quasi-extermination  of  Isauria  by 

1  "The  first  chief  who  fenced  in  the  Palatine  with  a  wall  did  not 
dream  that  his  hill-fortress  would  become  the  head  of  the  world. 
He  did  not  dream  that  it  would  become  the  head  of  Italy  or  even 
of  Latium.  But  the  prince  who  fenced  in  the  New  Rome,  the 
prince  who  bade  Byzantium  grow  into  Constantinople,  did  design 
that  his  younger  Rome  should  fulfil  the  mission  that  had  passed 
away  from  the  elder  Rome.  He  designed  that  it  should  fulfil  it 
more  thoroughly  than  Milan  or  Trier  or  Nikomedia  could  fulfil  it. 
And  his  will  has  been  carried  out.  He  called  into  being  a  city 
which,  while  other  cities  have  risen  and  fallen,  has  for  fifteen  hun- 
dred years,  in  whatever  hands,  remained  the  seat  of  imperial  rule; 
a  city  which,  as  long  as  Europe  and  Asia,  as  long  as  sea  and  land 
keep  their  places,  must  remain  the  seat  of  imperial  rule.  The 
other  capitals  of  Europe  seem  by  her  side  things  of  yesterday, 
creations  of  accident.  Some  chance  a  few  centuries  back  made 
them  seats  of  government  till  some  other  chance  may  cease  to  make 
them  seats  of  government.  But  the  city  of  Constantine  abides 
and  must  abide.  Over  and  over  again  has  the  possession  of  that 
city  prolonged  the  duration  of  powers  which  must  otherwise  have 
crumbled  away.  In  the  hands  of  Roman,  Frank,  Greek,  and 
Turk  her  imperial  mission  has  never  left  her.  The  eternity  of  the 
elder  Rome  is  an  eternity  of  moral  infiuence  ;  the  eternity  of  the 
younger  Rome  is  the  eternity  of  a  city  and  fortress  fixed  on  a  spot 
which  nature  itself  had  destined  to  be  the  seat  of  the  empire  of  two 
worlds."  —  Freeman,  "The  Byzantine  Empire"  in  "Historical  Es- 
says," Vol.  III.,  series  1892,  p.  255.  On  the  city  of  Constantinople, 
besides  the  classic  description  of  Hammer  in  his  "  Geschichte  der 
Osmanen,"  there  are  for  modern  times  the  books  of  De  Amicis, 
Grosvenor,  and  Hutton  ;  for  the  Middle  Ages  the  "Esquisse  topo^ 
graphique"  of  Dr.  Mordtmann  (Lille,  1892)  ;  for  the  early  Middle 
Ages  " Constantinopolis  Christiana"  (1729,  fol.),  and  Riant,  "Ex- 
uvise  Sacrae  Christianse"  (Geneve,  1877,  2  vols.). 


70  JUSTINIAN  TEE  GREAT, 

Anastasius  gave  peace  on  the  mainland  of  Asia 
Minor,  Justinian  was  obliged  to  protect  that 
vast  heart  of  the  empire,  with  all  its  superim- 
posed and  ancient  civilizations,  by  great  walls 
towered  and  flanked  at  intervals  from  the  Crimea 
to  Trebizond  on  the  Persian  frontier,  a  stretch 
of  %NQ  hundred  miles.  The  Iberian  and  Caspian 
gates,  those  narrow  sea  margins  and  mountain 
throats  that  control  the  entry  to  the  Black  Sea 
from  the  steep  ranges  of  Caucasus,  had  also  to 
be  fortified,  or,  rather,  the  strong  hand  of  the 
emperor  must  compel  the  rude  mountain  chiefs 
to  render  to  him  as  well  as  to  themselves  this 
necessary  duty.  The  very  sources  of  the  Eu- 
phrates, forever  a  dark  and  bloody  line  of  battle, 
had  to  be  secured  against  the  feudal  satraps  of 
the  Great  King.  In  the  Mesopotamian  plain 
Amida,  Constantine,  Nisibis,  holy  Edessa,  must 
rise  up,  clad  with  impregnable  armor  and  filled 
with  warlike  men.  Restless,  unsympathetic, 
proud,  discontented,  abused  Armenia  —  the  tor- 
ture of  Rome  since  th^  days  of  Mark  Antony 
and  still  the  plague  of  statesmen  —  must  be 
fastened  once  more^  however  unwillingly,  to  the 
body  of  the  Roman  State. 

In  the  whole  Orient  rose  up  one  hope  of  vic- 
tory, one  sure  refuge,  the   great   Gibraltar   of 


JUSTINIAN  THE  GREAT.  71 

Daras.  One  hundred  years  had  Rome  toiled 
at  that  barrier  against  Persia.  Only  the  inces- 
sant wars  in  Italy  and  the  Mediterranean  pre- 
vented Justinian  from  making  it  the  capital  of 
Roman  power  in  the  Orient.  As  it  was,  Daras 
was  the  chief  thorn  in  the  side  of  Persia,  a  living 
monumental  insult  pushed  far  into  the  lands 
that  the  Great  King  looked  on  as  his  hereditary 
domain,  and  an  encouragement  to  all  his  own 
rebels  as  well  as  a  promise  to  the  thousands  of 
unattached  Saracens,  the  Bedouins  of  those 
grassy  deserts  on  whose  surface  we  now  look 
in  vain  for  traces  of  the  greatest  fortress  that 
Greek  genius  ever  constructed. 

Egypt,  too,  the  land  of  the  wheat-bearing  and 
gold-producing  Nile,  needed  the  assurance  of 
fortifications  against  the  hordes  of  Ethiopia  and 
Nubia,  and  inner  unexplored  Africa,  against  the 
tribes  of  the  Soudan,  who,  from  time  imme- 
morial, under  many  names,  waged  war  against 
civilization  on  its  oldest,  richest,  and  narrowest 
line  of  development. 

Justinian  never  forgot  the  arts  of  diplomacy 
in  the  midst  of  all  these  warlike  cares.  He  was 
always  willing  to  pacify  by  tribute  the  various 
broken  bands  of  Huns.  This  had  been  always 
one  line  of  imperial  policy,  even  in  the  palmy 


72  JUSTINIAN  THE  GREAT. 

days  of  a  Theodosius  the  Great.  Much  was 
always  hoped  from  the  internal  discords  of  the 
barbarians,  who  often  dissipated  their  strength 
in  orgies  and  self-indulgence.  One  tribe  was 
played  off  against  the  other  by  arousing  avarice. 
The  Goths,  for  instance,  hated  the  Franks  and 
the  Alemans,  so  they  were  willing  to  exter- 
minate seventy-five  thousand  of  the  latter,  who 
might  have  helped  them  to  cast  out  thoroughly 
the  Roman  power.  The  emperor  encouraged 
the  King  of  AByssinia  against  the  King  of  the 
Homerites  in  Southern  Arabia,  and  made  thereby 
a  useful  Christian  friend,  while  he  broke  up  an 
anti-Christian  Jewish  power.  He  took  in  as  a 
body  of  auxiliary  troops  the  Heruli  of  Italy,  so 
brutal  and  stupid  that  nobody  would  have  them 
as  neighbors.  He  gave  the  Crimea  to  three 
thousand  shepherd  Goths  and  cultivated  the 
principal  men  among  the  Tzani,  the  Armenians, 
the  Lazi  of  Colchis.  Chosroes  could  say  in  539 
that  soon  the  whole  world  would  not  contain 
Justinian,  so  happy  seemed  his  fortunes  about 
that  date.  Yet  he  could  also  taste  the  cup  of 
despair,  for  in  558  he  was  obliged  to  witness  a 
small  body  of  wild  Huns  come  up  to  the  very 
gates  of  the  Royal  City,  an  advance  guard  of 
other  hordes   that   were   pillaging   Thrace   and 


JUSTINIAN  THE  GREAT,  73 

Greece.  The  aged  Belisarius  could  find  only- 
three  hundred  reliable  soldiers  in  a  city  of  one 
million  inhabitants ;  yet  with  them  he  scattered 
these  Huns  and  saved  the  city. 

The  old  historian  Agathias  tells  us  that  there 
should  then  have  been  in  the  army  six  hundred 
and  fifty-five  thousand  fighting  men,  but  it  had 
dwindled  down  to  one  hundred  and  fifty  thou- 
sand. "  And  of  these  some  were  in  Italy,  others 
in  Africa,  others  in  Spain,  others  in  Colchis, 
others  at  Alexandria  and  in  the  Thebaid,  a  few 
on  the  Persian  frontier." 

It  is  to  this  decay  of  the  army,  caused  perhaps 
by  jealousy  of  its  immortal  leader  and  by  female 
intrigue,  that  the  same  judicious  historian,  a 
contemporary  and  a  man  of  culture,  attributes 
the  growing  ills  of  the  Roman  State.  His 
thoughtful  phrase  is  worth  listening  to ;  soon 
this  current  of  philosophic  observation  will  cease, 
and  commonplace  chronicling  take  its  place  in 
the  seventh  and  eighth  centuries  of  the  Byzan- 
tine Empire. 

"When  the  emperor  conquered  all  Italy  and  Lybia  and 
waged  successfully  those  mighty  wars,  and  of  the  princes  who 
reigned  at  Constantinople  was  the  first  to  show  himself  an  abso- 
lute sovereign  in  fact  as  well  as  in  name  —  after  these  things 
had  been  acquired  by  him  in  his  youth  and  vigor,  and  when  he 
entered  on  the  last  stages  of  life,  he  seemed  to  be  weary  of 


74  JUSTINIAN  THE  GREAT, 

labors,  and  preferred  to  create  discord  among  his  foes  or  to 
mollify  them  with  gifts,  and  so  keep  off  their  hostilities,  instead 
of  trusting  his  own  forces  and  shrinking  from  no  danger.  He 
consequently  allowed  the  troojDS  to  decline,  because  he  expected 
that  he  would  not  require  their  services.  And  those  who  were 
second  in  authority  to  himself,  on  whom  it  was  incumbent  to 
collect  the  taxes  and  supply  the  army  with  necessary  provi- 
sions, were  affected  with  the  same  indifference  and  either  openly 
kept  back  the  rations  altogether  or  paid  them  long  after  they 
were  due ;  and  when  the  debt  was  paid  at  last,  persons  skilled 
in  the  rascally  science  of  arithmetic  demanded  back  from  the 
soldiers  what  had  been  given  them.  It  was  their  privilege  to 
bring  various  charges  against  the  soldiers  and  deprive  them  of 
theu"  food.  Thus  the  army  was  neglected  and  the  soldiers, 
pressed  by  hunger,  left  their  profession  to  embrace  other  modes 
of  life." 

IV. 

The  very  religious  mind  of  Justinian  could  not 
but  be  much  concerned  with  the  social  conditions 
and  problems  of  his  time.  His  legislation  bears 
the  impress  of  this  preoccupation  —  it  is  highly 
moral  throughout,  and  constantly  seeks  a  con- 
cord on  ethical  and  religious  principles.  Thus, 
to  go  through  his  code  haphazard,  we  find  him 
concerned  about  the  building  of  churches  and 
their  good  order  and  tranquillity.  He  is  said 
to  have  built  twenty-five  in  Constantinople  alone, 
and  to  have  chosen  for  them  the  most  favorable 
sites  in  public  squares,  by  the  sea,  in  groves,  on 
eminences  where  often  great  engineering  skill 
was    demanded.      The    rarest   woods   and    the 


JUSTINIAN  THE  GREAT.  75 

costliest  marbles  were  employed,  and  multitudes 
of  laborers  given  the  means  of  life.  They  were 
usually  paid  every  evening  with  fresh-coined 
money  as  a  tribute  to  religion.  He  built  and 
endowed  many  nunneries,  hospitals,  and  mon- 
asteries, notably  in  the  Holy  Land,  where  he 
also  provided  wells  and  stations  for  pilgrims. 
Bridges,  aqueducts,  baths,  theatres,  went  lip  con- 
stantly ;  for  building  he  was  a  second  Hadrian. 
And  all  this  had  a  social  side  —  the  employment 
of  vast  numbers  of  men,  the  encouragement  of 
the  fine  arts,  great  and  little.  He  is  concerned 
about  institutions  of  charity  of  every  kind,  and 
in  their  interest  makes  his  own  the  old  and 
favorable  laws  of  his  predecessors.  In  his  day 
every  sorrow  was  relieved  in  Constantinople. 
The  aged,  the  crippled,  the  blind,  the  helpless, 
the  orphans,  the  poor,  had  each  their  own  peculiar 
shelter,  managed  by  thousands  of  good  men  and 
women  who  devoted  themselves  gratuitously 
to  these  tasks.^  The  slave  and  the  debtor  had 
their   rights   of    asylum   acknowledged   in   the 

1  Bulteau,  "Essai  de  I'histoire  monastique  de  I'Orient"  (Paris, 
1680).  The  late  work  of  the  Abh6  Morin,  "Les  Moines  de  Con- 
stantinople" (Paris,  1897),  and  the  study  of  Dom  Besse,  very  rich 
in  details,  "Les  Moines  d' Orient  anterieurs  au  Coacile  de  Chalc^- 
doine"  (Paris,  1900),  permit  the  student  to  obtain  a  complete  con- 
spectus of  the  monastic  history  of  the  Orient. 


76  JUSTINIAN  THE  GREAT, 

churches  and  regulated  according  to  the  de- 
mands of  proper  police  order.  The  right  of 
freeing  the  slaves  was  recognized  especially  in 
bishops  and  priests ;  to  them  was  given  the 
power  to  control  the  "defenders  of  the  city'' 
—  a  kind  of  popular  tribunes,  whose  duty  it 
was  to  supervise  the  proper  administration  of 
justice.  He  undertook  to  abolish  gambling, 
claiming,  logically  enough,  that  he  had  the  same 
right  to  do  that  as  to  carry  on  war  and  regu- 
late religion.  Blasphemy  and  perjury  and  the 
greater  social  crimes  and  sins  were  visited  with 
specially  heavy  sanctions,  though  we  may  doubt 
if  they  often  passed  beyond  the  written  threat. 
He  legislated  humanely  for  the  rescue  of  aban- 
doned children  and  for  the  redemption  of  those 
numerous  captives  whom  the  barbarians  daily 
swept  away  from  the  soil  of  the  empire.  No 
female  could  longer  be  compelled  to  appear  in 
a  theatrical  performance,  even  if  she  were  a 
slave,  even  if  she  had  signed  a  contract  to  do  so, 
being  a  free  woman.  The  bishop  of  each  city 
was  authorized  to  carry  out  this  law.  An  actress 
might  henceforth  marry  any  member  of  society, 
even  a  senator.  He  was  personally  interested 
in  the  thousands  of  poor  girls  who  came  yearly 
to  the  Royal  City,  and  were  often  the  prey  of 


OF 

JUSTINIAN  THE  GREAT,  77 

designing  persons  who  had  travelled  through  the 
provinces,  "enticing  young  girls  by  promising 
them  shoes  and  clothes." 

In  the  last  century  it  was  a  custom  to  offset 
such  creditable  details  by  reference  to  the  ter- 
rible pages  of  the  "  Anecdota,"  or  "  Secret  His- 
tory" of  Procopius.  And  Gibbon  has  not  failed 
to  expend  on  them  some  of  his  most  salacious 
rhetoric  and  to  violate,  for  their  sake,  his  usual 
stern  principles  of  doubt  and  cynicism.^      Per- 

1  In  a  few  vigorous  phrases  Edward  Freeman  lias  laid  bare  a 
structural  weakness  of  Gibbon  :  "  With  all  his  [Gibbon's]  wonder- 
ful power  of  grouping  and  condensation,  which  is  nowhere  more 
strongly  shown  than  in  his  Byzantine  chapters,  with  all  his  vivid 
description  and  his  still  more  effective  art  of  insinuation,  his  is  cer- 
tainly not  the  style  of  writing  to  excite  respect  for  the  persons  or 
period  of  which  he  is  treating,  or  to  draw  many  to  a  more  minute 
study  of  them.  His  matchless  faculty  of  sarcasm  and  depreciation 
is  too  constantly  kept  at  work;  he  is  too  fond  of  anecdotes  showing 
the  weak  or  ludicrous  side  of  any  age  or  person ;  he  is  incapable  of 
enthusiastic  admiration  for  any  thing  or  person.  Almost  any  his- 
tory treated  in  this  manner  would  leave  the  contemptible  side 
uppermost  in  the  reader's  imagination ;  we  cannot  conceive  Gibbon 
tracing  the  course  of  the  Roman  Republic  with  the  affection  of 
Arnold,  or  defending  either  democracy  or  oligarchy  with  the  ardent 
championship  of  Grote  or  Mitford."  —  "Historical  Essays"  (1892), 
3d  series  (2d  ed.),  pp.  238-239.  This  recalls  what  Morison  said  of 
Gibbon  —  that  "his  cheek  rarely  flushes  in  enthusiasm  for  a  good 
cause."  Coleridge's  well-known  judgment  in  his  "Table  Talk  "  may 
be  worthy  of  mention,  viz.  "that  he  did  not  remember  a  single  philo- 
sophical attempt  made  throughout  the  work  to  fathom  the  ultimate 
causes  of  the  decline  and  fall  of  the  empire."  In  an  otherwise 
sympathetic  study  Augustine  Birrell  has  recorded  an  equally  severe 
judgment  on  the  historical  method  and  principles  of  Gibbon :  "The 
tone  he  thought  fit  to  adopt  toward  Christianity  was,  quite  apart 


78  JUSTINIAN  THE  GREAT, 

haps  I  cannot  do  better  than  cite  the  very  recent 
judgment  of  a  special  student  of  Byzantine 
history :  — 

"The  delicacy  or  affectation  of  the  present 
age  would  refuse  to  admit  the  authority  and 
example  of  Gibbon  as  a  sufficient  reason  for 
rehearsing  the  licentious  vagaries  attributed  to 
Theodora  in  the  indecent  pages  of  an  audacious 
and  libellous  pamphlet.  If  the  words  and  acts 
which  the  writer  attributes  to  Theodora  were 
drawn,  as  probably  is  the  case,  from  real  life, 
from  the  green  rooms  of  Antioch  or  the  bagnios 
of  Byzantium,  it  can  only  be  remarked  that  the 
morals  of  those  cities  in  the  sixth  century  did 
not  differ  very  much  from  the  morals  of  Paris, 
Vienna,  Naples,  or  London  at  the  present  day."  ^ 

from  all  particular  considerations,  a  mistaken  one.  No  man  is  big 
enough  to  speak  slightingly  of  the  construction  his  fellow  men  have 
put  upon  the  Infinite.  And  conduct  which  in  a  philosopher  is  ill- 
judged  is  in  an  historian  ridiculous.  .  .  .  Gibbon's  love  of  the 
unseemly  may  also  be  deprecated.  His  is  not  the  boisterous  impro- 
priety which  may  sometimes  be  observed  staggering  across  the 
pages  of  Mr.  Carlyle,  but  the  more  offensive  variety  which  is  heard 
sniggering  in  the  notes."  —  "Res  Judicatae"  (New  York,  1897), 
pp.  79,  80. 

1  Bury,  op.  cit.,  Vol.  II.,  p.  61.  On  Procopius  in  general,  cf .  Dahn, 
*'Prokopios  von  Csesarea"  (Berlin,  1865)  ;  Gutschmid,  "Diebyzan- 
tinischen  Historiker"  in  the  "Grenzboten"  (1863),  Vol.  I.,  p.  344  ; 
Ranke,  "  Weltgeschichte  "  (1883),  Vol.  IV.,  2,  pp.  285-312;  Bury, 
"  History  of  the  Later  Roman  Empire"  (1889),  Vol.  I.,  pp.  355-364. 
Ranke  is  of  opinion  that  the  "  Secret  History  "  contains  genuine 
material  from  the  hand  of  Procopius,  as,  for  instance,  the  adultery 


JUSTINIAN  THE  GREAT.  79 

Still  milder  and  more  favorable  is  the  judg- 
ment of  Kraiise  as  to  the  morality  of  the  city  of 
Constantinople,  even  at  a  later  date,  when  the 
first  vfervor  of  Christianity  had  cooled,  and  the 
city  had  suffered  from  the  immoral  contact  of 
Islam  and  had  become  almost  the  sink  of  the 
Orient.  From  its  foundation  in  330  to  its  fall 
in  1453  Constantinople  was  always  a  Christian 
city,  sometimes  fiercely  and  violently  so,  never- 
theless an  essentially  Christian  foundation.  The 
social  life,  therefore,  of  the  city,  and  the  empire 
'  that  it  gave  the  tone  to,  could  not  but  be  of  a 
higher  grade  than  the  pagan  life  had  to  show, 
whether  we  look  at  the  condition  of  woman,  the 
poor,  the  slave,  or  the  child,  those  four  usual 
factors  that  condition  the  moral  life  of  all 
ancient  society.  All  the  betterments  of  Chris- 
tianity were  here  available  for  the  slave,  and 
they  were  many  and  great.  Numberless  con- 
vents opened  their  doors  to  women  and  pro- 
claimed in  them  the  dignity  and  independence 
of  human  nature  in  the  only  way  possible  in 
antiquity.     The  diaconal  service  of  the  number- 

of  Antonina,  wife  of  Belisarius.  Only  such  materials  have  been 
interwoven  and  overlaid  with  other  assertions  not  due  originally  to 
Procopius,  but  to  jealous  and  disappointed  persons,  especially  those 
affected  by  the  stem  conduct  of  Justinian  in  the  Nike  sedition 
(532). 


80  JUSTINIAN  THE  GREAT, 

less  churches  was  largely  in  their  hands ;  it  was 
they  who  cared  for  the  orphan  and  the  poor  and 
the  aged.  In  the  schools  they  conducted,  the 
maidens  of  the  city  were  taught  to  read  the 
great  classics  of  the  Greek  fatherland  in  a  way 
that  did  not  force  them  to  blush  for  the  first 
principles  of  decency.  The  letters  of  a  Basil 
and  a  Chrysostom,  the  poems  of  a  Gregory  of 
Nazianzum,  were  written  in  a  language  scarcely 
less  pure  and  elegant  than  the  best  masterpieces 
of  Attica.^ 

The  frequent  sermons  of  renowned  orators  in 
the  churches  and  the  daily  conversation  of  men 
and  women  in  the  best  rank  and  station,  par- 
ticular in  language  and  manner  as  the  Greeks 
always  were,  offered  a  superior  culture.  Though 
they  had  lost  their  rude  liberties,  they  had  not 
lost  their  fine  ear  for  verbal  music,  their  keen 
and  disputatious   minds.     The   society  of   Con- 

1  Withal,  mediaeval  society  was  deeply  indebted  to  the  empire 
for  the  materials  and  traditions  with  which  it  began  its  career. 
(Cunningham,  "  The  Economic  Debt  to  Ancient  Rome  "  in  "  West- 
ern Civilization  in  its  Economic  Aspects"  (Cambridge  University 
Press,  1900),  pp.  5-9;  cf.  also  for  the  mediaeval  influence  of 
Constantinople  on  the  West,  Dollinger,  "Einfluss  der  griechischen 
Kultur  auf  die  abendlandische  Welt  im  Mittelalter,"  Akad.  Vor- 
trage  (Munich,  1890),  Vol.  I.,  pp.  162-186;  Burkhardt,  "Renais- 
sance" ;  Voigt,  "Die  Wiederbelebung  des  classischen  Alterthums " 
(2d  ed.,  1881)  ;  and  BikSlas,  "  Les  Grecs  au  Moyen  Age,"  in  "La 
Gr6ce  Byzantine  et  Moderne"  (Paris,  1893),  pp.  3-88. 


JUSTINIAN  THE  GREAT,  81 

stantinople  was  at  all  times  famed  for  the  ad- 
mirably bred  women  it  could  show.  Pulcheria, 
Athenais,  Eudoxia,  were  women  of  the  most 
varied  gifts,  and  they  actually  governed  the  gov- 
ernors of  the  world  by  the  use  of  these  gifts. 
The  letters  of  St.  John  Chrysostom  to  the 
Deaconess  Olympias,  the  story  of  his  own 
mother,  of  the  women  of  the  great  Cappadocian 
family  of  saints  and  theologians,  reveal  a  fine 
and  original  culture  penetrated  with  religion, 
but  also  enthusiastic  for  all  that  is  holy  and  per- 
manently fair,  worthy  and  sweet  in  life.  Whence, 
indeed,  could  come  the  strong  men  who  so  long 
held  the  Royal  City  above  the  waves  of  barba- 
rism and  disrupting  war  and  internal  disorder  but 
from  a  truly  great  race  of  women  ?  When  Con- 
stantinople was  founded,  a  place  was  made  for 
the  consecrated  virgins  of  the  Christian  Church. 
And  forever  after  they  held  that  place  of  honor 
so  worthily  that  the  tongue  of  slander  has 
scarcely  wagged  against  them.  For  over  eleven 
centuries  the  city  stood  in  the  seething  waters 
of  secular  iniquity,  human  weakness,  Oriental 
depravity,  Moslem  immorality,  and  the  miscella- 
neous filth  and  sinfulness  of  the  corrupt  East. 
Yet  she  never  ceased  to  fill  these  religious 
houses  of  men  and  women,  especially  the  latter, 


82  JUSTINIAN   THE  GREAT, 

and  never  ceased  to  behold  in  them  models  of 
the  highest  spiritual  life  on  earth.  We  know 
how  to  praise  the  Theophanos,  the  Marias,  and 
the  Anna  Komnenas  of  the  Greek  Middle  Ages. 
But  who  shall  say  how  many  souls  of  noble 
women  Avent  their  way  silently  along  the  ancient 
cloisters  by  the  Bosphorus,  wanting  indeed  in 
fame,  but  not  wanting  in  a  multitudinous  rich 
service  to  every  need  of  humanity  ?  The  Greek 
sinned  tragically  against  the  duty  of  Christian 
unity,  but  he  never  lost  the  original  Christian 
respect  for  the  way  of  sacrifice  and  perfection. 

V. 

The  ancient  life  about  the  Mediterranean  was 
governed  by  principles  and  manners  unknown  or 
unappreciated  by  us.^  The  warm  sun  and  the 
abundant  waters  of  inexpressibly  delicate  hues, 
the  rich  and  varied  vegetation,  the  cool  and 
calming  winds,  render  many  of  these  lands  the 
most  delightful  of  the  world.  Life  there  has 
always  been  an  out-of-door  life ;  all  the  higher 
forms  of  social  amusement  have  been  affected  by 
the  climate  and  the  geography.  It  was  so  in 
Old  Rome,  it  is  so  in  all  the  lands  of  Italy,  Spain, 

1  Lenormant,  "La  Grande  Gr^ce"  (Paris,  1881-84),  3  vols. 


JUSTINIAN  THE  GEE  AT,  83 

and  Southern  France  to  this  day.  The  peasant 
dances  on  the  public  square ;  the  strolling  player 
with  his  bear  or  his  marionette  sets  up  his  tent 
near-by.  The  harvest  festival,  the  church  fete, 
the  relics  of  old  pagan  superstitions  baptized  into 
harmlessness  by  innumerable  centuries  of  tolera- 
tion—  all  these  are  lived  out  in  the  open  air 
under  a  cloudless  sky,  amid-  balmy  breezes  laden 
with  the  scents  of  olive  and  vine,  fig  and  orange, 
and  the  most  aromatic  shrubberies.  As  these 
ancient  peoples  moved  up  in  the  forms  of  gov- 
ernment their  political,  life  was  all  out  of 
doors  —  the  speaking,  the  voting,  the  mighty 
contests  of  eloquence.  And  when  the  Greek 
cities  lost  to  Rome  their  national  isonomy,  they 
could  still  hire  some  famous  sophist  or  rhetorician, 
like  Dio  Chrysostom,  to  keep  up  on  the  "agora" 
some  faint  echo  or  image  of  their  adored  old  life.^ 
So  it  was  that  when  Constantinople  was  built, 
the  life  of  the  city  soon  centred  in  its  great  hip- 


1  The  municipal  and  domestic  life  of  the  Constantinople  of  Jus- 
tinian is  illustrated  somewhat  freely  in  Marrast,  "La  Vie  Byzan- 
tine au  VI.  Siecle  "  (Paris,  1881),  For  the  following  centuries,  cf. 
Krause,  "Die  Byzantiner  des  Mittelalters "  (Halle,  1869)  ;  Schlum- 
berger,  "La  Sigillographie  Byzantine"  (Paris,  1884).  The  work 
of  Am^d^e  Thierry  on  St.  John  Chrysostom  contains  admirable 
sketches  of  early  Byzantine  life,  that  are  to  be  supplemented  now 
by  the  indispensable  volume  of  Aim6  Puech,  "  St.  Jean  Chrysos- 
tome  et  les  Moeurs  de  son  Si6cle"  (Paris,  1890). 


84  '  JUSTINIAN  THE  GREAT. 

podrome.  Since  Homer  described  the  races  by 
the  much-resounding  sea,  the  peoples  of  the  Med- 
iterranean have  been  inexplicably  fond  of  horse 
racing,  chariot  and  hurdle  racing.  If  George 
Moore  had  lived  among  them,  he  would  have 
produced  a  superior  Esther  Waters.  General 
Lew  Wallace  has  left  a  classic  page  or  two 
descriptive  of  the  races  at  Antioch  that  will  per- 
haps live  while  our  tongue  is  spoken.  But  no 
one  has  yet  caught  the  spirit  of  that  great  hip- 
podrome by  the  Golden  Horn.  It  came  fresh 
from  Old  Rome,  with  all  the  prestige  of  imperial 
splendor  and  fondness.  In  that  mighty  circus 
whose  ruins  yet  appall  us  at  Rome  an  imperial 
people  had  ruled,  had  felt  almost  as  vastly  as  a 
god,  had  raged,  thundered,  compelled,  made  to 
die  and  to  live,  had  experienced  an  oceanic  ful- 
ness of  life,  a  glory  of  self-adulation  such  as 
might  befit  the  highest  and  whitest  Alp  or  the 
solemn  depths  of  the  Hercynian  forest.  And 
so,  when  at  Constantinople  the  emperor  sat 
bediademmed  in  his  chosen  seat,  the  autocrator, 
the  pantocrator,  the  Basileus,  the  golden  King 
of  Kings,  it  seemed  as  if  his  were  indeed  an 
"eternal  countenance,  sacrosanct,  holy,  inviola- 
ble.'' In  him  that  awful  mob  saw  itself  mir- 
rored.    Each  one,  according  to  his  own  passion 


JUSTINIAN  THE  GREAT.  85 

or  aspiration,  saw  the  reach  and  the  limit  of  his 
own  possibihties. 

Nothing  affected  more  profoundly  the  society 
of  Constantinople  than  the  hippodrome  or  circus. 
The  great  multitude  of  men  and  women  con- 
nected with  this  "peculiar  institution"  were 
divided  from  time  immemorial  into  factions  — 
once  red,  white,  blue,  green,  from  the  color  of 
the  ribbons  attached  to  the  axles  of  the  chariot 
wheels  or  to  the  ears  of  the  horses.  These  were 
the  s3niibols  borrowed  from  Old  Rome,  and 
in  the  time  of  Justinian  they  had  dwindled  to 
two,  the  Blues  and  the  Greens.  The  sympathy  of 
the  million  inhabitants  of  the  city  was  divided 
between  them,  but  with  the  inconstancy  of 
the  mob.  In  the  time  of  the  great  emperor  the 
Greens  had  become  identified  with  opposition  to 
the  Council  of  Chalcedon,  had  become  the  Mon- 
ophysite  factor  of  the  city.  They  had,  moreover, 
attracted  the  hatred  of  the  Empress  Theodora. 
The  Blues  were  the  favorites  of  the  imperial 
family.  The  contentions  of  both  were  endless 
and  very  dangerous.  They  held  open  and  con- 
temptuous discourse  with  the  emperor  during 
the  races,  and  clamored  wildly  for  justice  on 
their  respective  enemies.  The  stormiest  scenes 
of   the   Pnyx,    the   fiercest   contentions   in   the 


86  JUSTINIAN  THE  GREAT, 

forum,  were  child's  play  to  the  rocking  passions 
of  the  great  mob  of  Blues  and  Greens  on  some 
high  day  of  festival.  These  colors  eventually 
became  the  symbols  of  all  discontent  and  rebel- 
lion. In  532  their  violence  reached  its  height 
in  the  sedition  of  Nik^,  whereby  thirty  thousand 
souls  perished  in  the  circus  and  on  the  streets, 
and  a  great  and  splendid  part  of  the  city  was 
consumed  by  flames,  including  the  great  Church 
of  the  Heavenly  Wisdom,  or  St.  Sophia.  Per- 
haps this  uprising  was  the  end  of  the  genuine 
city  life  of  the  ancients,  some  remnants  of  whose 
turbulent  freedom  had  always  lived  on  in  Old 
Rome  and  then  in  Constantinople.  With  the 
awful  butchery  of  those  days  the  aristocracy  of 
the  city  was  broken  under  the  iron  heel  of  the 
cold-faced  man  who  dwelt  in  the  Brazen  Palace. 
Neither  priest  nor  noble  ever  again  wielded  the 
power  they  once  held  before  this  event,  which 
may  in  some  sense  be  said  to  mark  the  true  be- 
ginning of  Byzantine  imperialism,  being  itself 
the  last  symbolic  act  of  popular  freedom.  It  is 
significant  that  the  last  vestiges  of  the  free  po- 
litical life  of  Hellas  were  quenched  in  the  city 
of  Byzas  by  thousands  of  ugly  and  brutal  Heruli 
whom  a  lucky  Slav  had  attached  to  himself  as 
so  many  Great  Danes  or  Molossi! 


JUSTINIAN  THE  GBEAT.  87 

The  fiscal  policy  of  Justinian  has  been  criti- 
cised as  the  weakest  point  of  his  government. 
In  his  time  the  Roman  Empire  consisted  of 
sixty-four  provinces  and  some  nine  hundred  and 
thirty-five  cities.  It  had  every  advantage  of 
soil,  climate,  and  easy  transportation.  Egypt 
and  Syria  should  have  sufficed  to  support  the 
imperial  majesty  with  ease  and  dignity.  The 
former  alone  contributed  yearly  to  the  support 
of  Constantinople  two  hundred  and  sixty  thou- 
sand quarters  of  wheat.  The  emperor's  pred- 
ecessor, Anastasius,  dying,  left  a  treasure  of 
some  sixty-five  million  dollars.  It  is  true  that 
terrible  plagues  and  earthquakes  devastated  the 
population  and  reduced  its  spirit  and  courage  to 
a  minimum.  But  they  were  still  more  dis- 
heartened by  the  excessive  and  odious  taxes. 
An  income  tax  on  the  poorest  and  most  toilsome 
in  the  cities,  known  as  the  "  gold  of  affiiction," 
earned  him  a  universal  hatred.  The  peasants 
had  to  provide  vast  supplies  of  corn,  and  trans- 
port it  at  their  own  expense  to  the  imperial 
granaries,  an  intolerable  burden  that  was  in- 
creased by  frequent  requisitions  of  an  extraordi- 
nary kind.  The  precious  metals  decreased  in 
quantity,  partly  through  the  enormous  sums  paid 
out  annually  in  shameful  and  onerous  tributes, 


88  JUSTINIAN  THE  GEE  AT. 

partly  through  pillage  and  the  stoppage  of  pro- 
duction, owing  to  endless  war.  Weapons,  build- 
ings, fortifications,  alms,  the  movement  of  great 
armies  and  great  stores  of  provisions,  consumed 
the  enormous  taxes.  Heavy  internal  duties 
were  laid,  not  only  on  arms,  but  on  many  ob- 
jects of  industry  and  manufacture,  thus  render- 
ing any  profitable  export  impossible.  The 
manufactures  of  purple  and  silk  were  State 
monopolies.  The  value  of  copper  money  was 
arbitrarily  raised  one-seventh.  The  revenue 
was  farmed  out  in  many  cases,  and  the  venality 
of  the  collectors  was  incredible.  Honors  and 
dignities  were  put  up  for  sale.  The  office  of  the 
magistrate  became  a  trade,  out  of  which  the 
purchaser  was  justified  in  reimbursing  himself 
for  the  cost.  The  rich  were  compelled  to  make 
their  wills  in  the  imperial  favor  if  they  wished 
to  save  anything  for  their  families;  the  prop- 
erty of  Jews  and  heretics  was  mercilessly  confis- 
cated. With  one  voice  the  people  execrated  a 
certain  John  of  Cappadocia,  the  imperial  banker 
and  minister  of  finance.  For  a  while  the  em- 
peror bowed  to  the  storm  of  indignation,  but  he 
could  not  do  without  the  clear  head  and  hard 
heart  and  stern  principles  of  this  man,  and  so 
recalled  him  to  office.     His  example  of  avarice 


JUSTINIAN  THE  GEE  AT.  89 

and  cruelty  was,  of  course,  imitated  all  along 
the  line  of  imperial  officers  and  agents.  On  the 
other  hand,  economies  that  were  unjust  or  un- 
popular or  insufficient  were  introduced  —  the 
civil  list  of  pensions  was  cut  down,  the  city  was 
no  longer  lit  up  at  night,  the  public  carriage  of 
the  mails  was  abandoned,  the  salaries  of  physi- 
cians reduced  or  extinguished,  the  quinquennial 
donative  to  the  soldiers  withdrawn.  Though 
the  unfortunate  subjects  of  Justinian  suffered 
untold  woes  in  Greece  and  Thrace  and  Syria 
from  invasions  and  the  constant  movement  of 
large  bodies  of  soldiery,  their  taxes  were  never 
remitted,  hence  a  multitude  of  abandoned  farms 
and  estates.  In  a  word,  Justinian  "lived  with 
the  reputation  of  hidden  treasures  and  be- 
queathed to  posterity  the  payment  of  his  debts." 
His  reign  is  responsible  for  the  economic  ex- 
haustion of  the  Koman  Orient,  that  was  pro- 
longed long  enough  to  permit  of  the  triumph  of 
Islam  in  the  next  century  —  one  of  the  most 
solemn  proofs  of  the  intimate  connection  of  social 
conditions  with  religious  change  and  revolution. 
Justinian  had  one  passion,  the  imperial  passion 
par  excellence,  the  passion  of  architecture.^     He 

1  The  art  and  architecture  of  ancient  Constantinople  have  never 
ceased  to  fascinate  a  multitude  of  writers  since  Ducange.     Indeed, 


90  JUSTINIAN  THE  GREAT, 

delighted  in  great  works  of  engineering,  in  prod- 
igies of  mechanical  invention.  We  have  seen 
that  he  built  many  churches,  and  rich  ones,  in 
the  Royal  City.  He  eclipsed  them  all  by  his 
building  of  St.  Sophia,  little  thinking  that  he 
was  raising  it  for  the  wretched  worship  of  the 
successors  of  an  Arab  camel  driver.  For  him 
Anthemius  of  Tralles  and  Isidore  of  Miletum 
raised  in  the  air  this  new  thing  in  architecture, 
bold,  light,  rich,  vast,  solemn,  and  open.  Ten 
thousand  men  worked  six  years  at  it.  They 
were  paid  every  day  at  sunset  with  new-minted 
pieces  of  silver.  And  when  it  was  done,  the 
emperor,  standing  amid  its  virgin  and  shining 

the  series  begins  much  earlier.  Procopius  added  to  his  fame  as  a 
writer,  if  not  to  his  character  for  honesty,  by  his  "De  Edificiis" 
(Bonn  ed.,  1838).  His  contemporary,  the  Guardsman  Paul  (Silen- 
tiarius),  described  in  minute  detail  the  glories  of  Sancta  Sophia,  and 
a  mass  of  curious  information  that  drifted  down  the  centuries  lies 
stored  up  in  the  book  of  the  antiquarian  Codinus,  "De  Edificiis  " 
(Migne  PG.,  Vols.  157  and  158).  The  monumental  works  of  Sal- 
zenberg  and  Labarte  have  found  worthy  followers  and  critics  in 
Pulgher,  Paspatis,  Unger,  Bayet,  Ferguson,  Miintz,  Springer,  Kon- 
dakoff,  and  Kraus.  Cf.  Choisy,  "L'Art  de  batir  chez  les  Byzan- 
tins"  (Paris,  1884);  Bayet,  "L'Art  Byzantin"  (Paris,  1883); 
and  Mrs.  J.  B.  Bury  in  "  History  of  the  Lower  Roman  Empire,"  Vol. 
II.,  pp.  40-54.  For  the  very  abundant  literature  of  this  subject,  cf. 
Kraus,  "  Geschichte  der  christlichen  Kunst"  (Berlin,  1898-99, 
2  vols.).  Its  profound  influence  on  the  symbolism  of  the  Middle 
Ages  may  be  traced  partly  through  "  The  Painter's  Book  of  Mount 
Athos"  in  Didron's  "Manuel  d'Iconographie  Grecque  et  Chr^ti- 
enne"  (Paris,  1845).  Cf.  Edward  Freshfield  on  "Byzantine 
Churches'*  in  Archceologia,  Vol.  44,  pp.  451-462. 


JUSTINIAN   THE  GBEAT.  91 

splendors,  could  cry  out,  "  Glory  to  God !  .  .  . 
I  have  vanquished  thee,  0  Solomon ! "  It  still 
stands,  after  twelve  hundred  years  of  service,  a 
stately  monument  to  the  grandeur  of  his  mind 
and  the  vastness  of  his  ideas.  He  also  built  in 
the  city  the  great  Chalk e,  or  Brazen  Palace,  so 
called  from  a  bronze-ceiled  hall,  and  across  the 
strait  the  gardens  of  the  Heraeum  on  the  Asiatic 
shores  of  the  Propontis.  Cities  rose  everywhere 
at  his  command,  and  no  ignoble  ones.  We  have 
seen  what  a  circle  of  forts  and  walls  he  built 
about  the  empire,  what  expensive  enterprises 
he  carried  on  in  the  Holy  Land.  He  built  and 
endowed  many  monasteries  and  churches  else- 
where in  the  empire.  And  if  he  collected  sternly, 
he  knew  how  to  spend  with  magnificence.  The 
churches  of  Rome  and  Ravenna  were  adorned  by 
his  generosity  —  one  may  yet  read  in  the  Liber 
Pontificalis,  drawn  up  by  a  Roman  sacristan^ 
the  list  of  church  plate  given  by  the  emperor  to 
the  Church  of  St.  Peter.  He  convoked  and 
celebrated  a  General  Council,  which  was  always 
a  heavy  expense  to  the  empire,  for  the  trans- 
portation and  support  of  the  prelates.  We  do 
not  read  that  he  did  much  for  schools.  He  is 
accused  of  closing  those  at  Athens.  But  they 
were   pagan  schools,   and   modern    critics    like 


92  JUSTINIAN  THE  GREAT, 

Gregorovius  and  others  doubt  whether  they  were 
closed  by  any  formal  edict.-  They  fell  away  by 
reason  of  the  general  misery  and  the  emptiness 
and  inadequacy  of  their  teaching,  unfitted  for  a 
world  that  was  destined  to  know  no  more  the 
serenity  of  the  old  Hellenic  contemplation,  whose 
weakness  it  had  exchanged  for  the  saving 
severity  of  Christian  discipline.  It  is  certain 
that  he  opened  law  schools  at  Berytus,  Con- 
stantinople, and  Rome.  He  made  wise  provisions 
for  the  teaching  and  conduct  of  the  young 
lawyers  on  whom  the  civil  service  of  the  State 
was  to  depend.  Justinian  was  no  philosopher ; 
he  was  a  theologian  and  a  grave  Christian 
thinker.  Perhaps  he  felt  little  interest  in 
the  propagation  of  Greek  culture.  He  was  a 
religious,  orthodox  man,  troubled  about  his  soul, 
and  concerned  with  much  prayer  and  inner 
searching  of  his  spirit.  The  sweet  figments 
of  old  Greek  poets,  like  the  pure  mild  ra- 
tionalism of  Confucius,  were  no  food  for  the 
ruler  of  many  millions  in  a  decaying  and  ruinous 
state,  no  concern  of  an  Isapostolos,  the  earthly 
and  civil  Vicegerent  of  the  Crucified.  He  could 
read  in  the  writings  of  Cyril  of  Alexandria, 
scarcely  dead  a  generation  before  him,  of  the 
follies  and  the  criminal  heart  of  a  Julian  the 


JUSTINIAN  THE  GREAT,  93 

Apostate,  his  predecessor.  He  saw  all  around 
him  the  hopeless  congenital  weakness  of  pagan 
philosophy  to  bear  the  appalling  evils  of  the 
time.  Only  the  Son  of  Man  could  save  this 
last  stage  of  the  old  Grseco-Roman  society.  To 
Him,  therefore,  and  the  Holy  Spirit  of  Celestial 
Wisdom  be  all  public  honor  rendered ! 


VI. 

Had  Justinian  done  nothing  but  restore  to 
the  empire  the  members  torn  from  it  by  the 
convulsions  of  a  century,  his  name  would  be  for- 
ever famous  among  the  great  rulers  of  that 
ancient  State.  But  he  did  more  —  he  recast  the 
laws  of  Rome  and  made  them  serviceable  for  all 
time  —  those  ancient  laws  in  which,  as  Sir 
Henry  Maine  and  Rudolph  von  Ihering  have 
shown,  are  deposited  the  oldest  experiences  and 
the  most  archaic  institutions  of  the  great  Aryan 
family  to  which  all  Western  peoples  belong.  By 
this  act  he  passed  into  a  higher  order  of  men 
than  even  the  autocrators  of  Old  or  New  Rome ; 
he  became  a  benefactor  of  humanity  —  one  of 
its  solemn  pontiffs,  peer  of  Solon  and  Lycurgus, 
of  Aristotle  and  Plato,  of  Ulpian  and  Papinian — 
nay,  a  greater  than   they,  for  their  laws  have 


94  JUSTINIAN  THE  GREAT, 

either  perished  from  society  or  survive  by  the 
act  of  Justinian.  It  is  not  easy  to  put  in  a  nut- 
shell a  subject  of  such  infinite  charm  and  im- 
portance. Gibbon  thought  it  worthy  of  the 
most  immortal  chapter  in  his  book,  and  pens 
innumerable  have  labored  at  describing  this 
great  work  as  men  describe  the  Pyramids  or  the 
Alps,  with  minds  distracted  by  admiration  and 
the  stupor  that  all  true  greatness  inflicts  upon 
us. 

The  Laws  of  Rome !  It  was  a  long  and 
varied  process  by  which  they  grew,  the  steady 
exercise  of  that  terrible  Majestas  Populi  Ro- 
mani.  Leges  and  plehiscita,  seyiatus-consulta  and 
responsa  prudentimi^  i.e.  the  laws  of  the  forum, 
the  Senate,  and  the  renowned  opinions  of  learned 
jurists  —  they  had  grown  century  by  century, 
until  their  number  was  legion  and  their  indi- 
vidual original  wisdom  was  crossed  by  their  suc- 
cessive contradictions  and  repetitions.  For 
seven  hundred  and  fifty  years  before  Christ  had 
the  City  been  growing.  In  that  time  every 
human  interest  had  come  up  for  consideration. 
The  functions  of  war  and  peace,  of  conquest  and 
division  of  spoils  and  administration,  of  trade 
and  industry,  commerce  and  luxury,  production 
and  exchange  and  distribution  —  every  interest 


JUSTINIAN  THE  GBEAT.  95 

arising  from  the  soil,  or  from  the  family,  or 
from  human  agreements,  or  from  the  attempts 
of  social  authority  to  assure  peace  by  justice  and 
equity  —  all  these  had  been  the  object  of  Roman 
legislation.  Originally  local  and  jealous,  so 
local  that  it  looked  askance  at  the  men  of  Veil 
and  Proeneste,  scarce  a  day's  walk  away,  it 
expanded  mightily  and  took  in  what  was  good 
in  all  the  legislations  of  the  past,  all  the  solid 
deposit  of  business,  common  sense,  and  com- 
mercial practice  as  it  was  floating  around  in 
what  came  to  be  known  as  the  Law  of  Nations. 
The  common  Roman  might  see  in  expansion  only 
a  chance  for  trade  and  power ;  the  great  thinkers 
of  the  State  conceived  the  purpose  of  this  ex- 
pansion of  the  city  to  be,  as  the  Younger  Pliny 
put  it,  ''  ut  humaiiitatem  hommi  daret,''  i.e.  the 
spread  of  the  light  of  civilization  and  its  bene- 
fits, by  the  red  right  hand  and  the  dripping  sword 
if  need  be.  Could  we  read  the  minutes  of  the 
meetings  of  the  Roman  Senate  on  the  annexation 
of  Northern  Africa  after  the  Jugurthan  war,  we 
should  be  reminded,  I  dare  say,  of  a  certain  late 
session  of  our  own  august  body  of  legislators,  so 
true  is  it  that  history  repeats  itself. 

When  the  republic  lapsed  into  an  empire,  so 
gently  that   the   first  emperor   dared   only  call 


96  JUSTINIAN  THE  GREAT, 

himself  the  foremost  citizen,  the  lawmaking 
power  was  the  first  to  pass  away  from  the 
people.  Henceforth  there  are  no  leges  —  the 
world  is  governed  by  the  will  of  the  imperator, 
and  he  acts  through  constitutions  and  rescripts, 
i.e.  general  and  particular  decisions,  which  are 
registered  in  the  imperial  chancery  and  become 
the  actual  law  of  the  land.  Besides,  there  was 
a  peculiar  annual  legislation  of  the  prastor,  or 
city  magistrate,  and  another  body  of  law  arising 
from  the  opinions  of  licensed  lawyers  —  ratioci- 
nated decisions  that  originally  won  the  force  of 
law  by  their  reasonableness,  and  in  time  were 
collected  in  books  and  held  almost  as  sacred  as 
lex  or  constitution.  What  all  this  reached  to, 
after  five  centuries  of  imperial  government  of 
the  world,  one  may  well  imagine. 

As  the  will  of  the  emperor  was  the  real 
source  of  law  since  Caesar's  death,  so  the  first 
attempt  at  a  reform  or  a  codification  of  the  law 
must  begin  with  the  imperial  constitutions. 
Two  hundred  years  and  more  before  Justinian, 
in  Old  Rome,  this  need  had  been  felt,  and  the 
Gregorian  and  Hermogenian  codes  had  been  pre- 
pared for  official  use.  But  they  were  soon 
antiquated,  and  a  new  one,  the  famous  Theodosian 
Codex,   was   issued    in    438   by   the    Emperor 


JUSTINIAN  THE  GREAT,  97 

Theodosius  II.  But  it  was  rare,  bulky,  costly, 
and  therefore  not  always  at  hand.  Moreover, 
numerous  grave  constitutions  had  been  added 
since  438,  precisely  a  time  of  transition,  when 
the  lawmaking  genius  is  called  on  most  earnestly 
to  adapt  the  rule  to  the  facts.  Justinian  estab- 
lished, February  13,  528,  a  commission  of  ten 
men  -^  decemviri  —  to  execute  a  new  code. 
Tribonian  and  Theophilus  were  the  principal 
lawyers,  and  they  were  charged  to  see  that  only 
up-to-date  constitutions  were  incorporated,  minus 
all  that  was  obsolete  or  superfluous  or  repetition 
or  preamble.  They  might  erase,  add,  or  alter 
words  in  the  older  constitutions  they  accepted, 
if  it  was  necessary  for  their  use  as  future  law. 
He  wanted  three  things,  brevity,  compactness, 
and  clearness,  and  in  less  than  fourteen  months 
he  received  them  in  the  document  to  which  he 
gave  the  name  of  Codex  Justinianeus,  and  which 
was  published  April  7,  529. 

The  next  step  was  harder  —  it  was  a  question 
of  collecting  and  sifting  the  responsa  prudentum, 
or  answers  given  by  recognized  and  licensed 
lawyers,  and  which  had  always  enjoyed  a  high 
degree  of  consideration  before  the  magistrates 
of  Rome..  They  were  the  real  philosophers  of 
the    law,    but    philosophers    after    the    Roman 


98  JUSTINIAN  THE  GBEAT, 

heart,  —  terse,  grave,  direct,  —  condensing  a  para- 
graph of  diffuseness  into  one  strong,  luminous 
hne  that  seemed  to  shed  truth  and  peace  along 
its  whole  length.  These  answers  had  been 
given  for  over  a  thousand  years,  and  were  then 
scattered  about  in  numberless  treatises  —  it  is 
said  over  two  thousand,  to  speak  only  of  those 
enjoying  actual  authority.  They  had  been  the 
bane  of  the  Roman  bar  for  many  a  day.  Since 
they  were  all  good  law,  and  apparently  equal, 
the  practice  of  law  had  degenerated  into  cita- 
tions —  whoever  had  the  most  dead  men  to 
speak  for  him  was  the  victor.  This  was  intol- 
erable ;  it  came  at  last  to  the  famous  Law  of 
Citations,  that  fixed  the  ^yq  greatest  names,  and 
among  them,  as  senior  or  chief,  the  immortal 
Papinian,  that  high  priest,  king,  and  prophet 
of  all  lawyers,  past,  present,  and  to  come. 

At  this  huge  mass  of  ancient  law,  therefore, 
a  new  commission  was  directed,  under  the 
authority  of  Tribonian.  From  this  Golden 
Dust-heap  they  were  to  extract,  to  e7iiccleate, 
what  was  good  and  useful  as  law  or  interpre- 
tation or  illustration.  Out  of  all  the  materials 
they  should  erect  a  fair  and  holy  temple  of 
justice,  divided  into  fifty  books,  and  these  prop- 
erly subdivided  and  paragraphed  and  numbered. 


JUSTINIAN  THE  GEE  AT,  99 

It  meant  that  the  decisions  of  thirteen  hundred 
years  had  to  be  gone  over,  and,  according  to 
present  ntihty,  a  choice  struck  and  the  balance 
rejected.  Seventeen  specialists  did  it  in  three 
years.  The  work  was  called  the  "Digest/'  or 
"  Pandects."  There  are  in  it  something  less  than 
ten  thousand  sententice,  or  brief  opinions  of  an- 
cient lawyers,  harmonized,  castigated,  clarified 
■ — at  least  Justinian  and  his  lawyers  thought 
so.  Could  Cujas  or  Donelli  have  been  at  their 
side,  what  reproachful  looks  they  would  have 
cast !  For  the  Middle  Ages  hunted  out  end- 
less contradictions  in  the  huge  mass  of  these 
'^  opinions "  that  only  external  authority  had 
united.  Thereby  the  ancestors  of  our  present 
lawyers  lived  fair  and  lovely  lives,  with  rich 
benefices  and  fine  gowns  of  silk  or  brocade, 
and  the  noblest  palaces  in  the  town,  and  ample 
esteem  from  Church  and  State.  How  they 
must  have  smiled  when  they  heard  Boccaccio 
or  Pietro*  Dante  commenting  on  the  poet's 
famous  line, 

"  D'entro  alle  leggi  trassi  il  troppo  e  il  vano.** 

It  is  calculated  that  by  the  edition  of  the 
Digest  a  law  library  of  one  hundred  and  six 
books  was  reduced  to  five  and  a  third,  a  com- 


100  JUSTINIAN  THE  GBEAT. 

parison  that  only  faintly  reflects  the  relief  that 
its  publication  gave.  Finally  the  emperor  caused 
the  preparation  in  four  books  of  a  manual  of  the 
principles  of  Roman  Law,  which  he  called  the 
"  Institutions."  It  became  a  part  of  the  codified 
law,  being  largely  a  reproduction  and  adaptation 
of  a  similar  work  of  the  second  century  that  was 
owing  to  the  great  jurist  Gaius.^ 

This  work  of  Justinian  has  met  with  some 
reproaches  from  our  modern  critics ;  perhaps 
they  are  deserved.  It  has  been  accused  of  too 
much  theorizing,  too  much  ratiocination,  too 
much  blending  of  the  schoolmaster  with  the  leg- 
islator to  the  detriment  of  the  latter.  But  what 
man  of  heart  will  blame  the  emperor  for  per- 
mitting the  pagan  Tribonian  to  preserve  the 
color  and  tone  of  second  and  third  century 
Stoicism,  for  the  occasional  brief  reflections  on 
the  origin  and  nature  of  human  liberty  and 
human  dignity  ?  They  are  delicious  oases  in  a 
desert  of  rigid  rules  and  sententious  decisions. 
In  this  new  Roman  Law  it  is  the  spirit  and 
the  content  of  the  Law  of  Nations  that  pre- 
dominate.    The  old,  hard,  selfish  Romanism  is 

1  The  vicissitudes  of  the  law  of  Justinian  in  the  Lutin  Middle 
Ages  have  been  described  fully  in  the  classic  work  of  Sa^igny, 
and  by  a  host  of  later  writers.  For  its  history  in  the  Orient,  cf. 
Mortreuil,  "  Histoire  du  droit  Byzantin"  (Paris,  1843-40,  3  vols.). 


JUSTINIAN  THE  GREAT.  101 

eliminated.  From  the  Golden  Horn  the  Genius 
of  Order  lifts  up  an  illuminating  torch  to  shine 
afar  over  the  Euxine  of  the  Barbarians  and 
the  Hellespont  of  the  Greeks  —  nay,  across  the 
Mediterranean  and  JEgesm,  even  beyond  the 
Pillars  of  Hercules,  and  to  follow  forevermore 
with  its  sunlike  radiance  every  path  of  human 
endeavor,  every  channel  of  human  contention, 
every  relation  of  man  to  man  and  of  practical 
government  to  its  subjects. 

This  Roman  Law,  after  all,  was  the  salt  and 
the  light  of  the  Middle  Ages.  For  love  of  it, 
even  before  Justinian^  the  Ataulfs  and  the 
Wallias,  standing  at  the  parting  of  the  ways, 
had  renounced  becoming  a  Gothia  and  were 
willing  to  be  incorporated  in  "a  Romania.  They 
adopted  it  at  once,  begging  the  Catholic  bishops 
of  their  new  kingdoms  to  accommodate  it  to 
their  present  needs,  their  racial  genius,  and  their 
immemorial  customs.  So  arose  the  invaluable 
Leges  JBarharorum  of  Frank  and  Burgundian 
and  Visigoth  and  Vandal.  Only,  the  Catholic 
Church  would  have  no  separatist  barbarian  law, 
even  of  that  kind.  All  her  ecclesiastics  lived 
by  the  genuine  and  common  Roman  Law,  the 
Law  of  Justinian :  Ecdesia  vivit  lege  Romana. 
Indeed,  she  was  its  second  saviour,  and  thereby 


102  JUSTINIAN  THE  GREAT, 

the  saviour  of  good  government,  for  in  the  West 
it  gradually  went  over  very  largely  into  her 
Canon  Law.  It  was  the  basis  and  glory  of  her 
oldest  university,  Bologna,  and  was  the  usual 
path  to  honor  and  fame  and  power.  There  are 
those  who  regret  its  excessive  vitality,  since  it 
bears  along  with  it  the  stamp  of  its  origin,  the 
absolute  will  of  one  ruler,  which  makes  it  at 
all  times  the  favorite  code  of  centralized  power. 
The  Code  Napoleon  is  built  on  it,  as  are  most 
of  the  great  modern  codes  of  Europe.  Even 
Mohammedan  law  as  it  arose,  in  Egypt  and 
Syria  especially,  accepted  and  applied  the  ex- 
isting law  of  Justinian  that  had  been  working 
more  than  a  century  in  these  unhappy  lands 
when,  for  their  folly  and  stupidity,  the  night  of 
Islam  settled  down  on  them. 

It  is  the  Christian,  however,  who  rejoices 
most  at  this  act  of  Justinian.  Those  Roman 
laws  that  Tertullian  denounced  were  now  bap- 
tized.^ A  spirit  of  humanity  henceforth  breathed 
from  them.     The  rights  of  the  moral  code  were 


1  "  Postremo  legum  obstruitur  auctoritas  adversus  earn  (sc.  veri- 
tatem).  ...  Si  lex  tua  erravit,  puto,  ab  homine  concepta  est; 
neque  enim  de  ccelo  ruit."  —  Tertullian,  "Apologeticum,"  c.  iv,  20. 
The  entire  opusculum  is  the  protest  of  a  great  Roman  lawyer  against 
the  inhuman  and  anomalous  iniquities  of  the  Roman  Law  as  applied 
to  the  Christians. 


JUSTINIAN  THE  GREAT,  103 

incorporated  into  the  legal  code ;  religion  was 
not  separate  from  conduct.  The  new  law 
showed  itself  most  practical  in  this,  that  it  recog- 
nized Christianity  as  triumphant,  as  the  popular 
religion,  and  in  many  ways  made  a  large  place 
for  it,  recognized  its  teachers  and  chiefs  as  the 
principal  supporters  of  the  State  and  of  public 
order.  The  political  life  of  the  Middle  Ages  is 
all  in  the  Law  of  Justinian,  especially  in  the 
Code  of  his  Constitutions,  and  for  this  alone  it  is 
the  most  remarkable  of  books  after  the  inspired 
writings  and  the  ancient  councils. 

It  is  not  wonderful  that  Dante,  at  once  the 
greatest  of  architectonic  poets  and  last  prophet  of 
the  empire,  crying  out  over  its  grave,  should  speak 
more  than  once  of  Justinian  and  his  laws.  In 
the  famous  lines  of  the  "Purgatorio"  (VI.  89)  his 
whole  soul  flames  out  in  irrepressible  anger : — 

"  Ah  1  servile  Italy,  grief's  hostelry ! 

A  ship  without  a  pilot  in  great  tempest ! 

No  lady  thou  of  provinces,  but  brothel ! 
*****  * 

What  boots  it  that  for  thee  Justinian 

The  bridle  mend,  if  empty  be  the  saddle  ?  " 

In  the  superb  sixth  canto  of  the  "  Paradiso  "  he 
personifies  in  Justinian  the  imperial  authority 
that  to  him  is  the  basis  of  the  State :  — 

**  Csesar  I  was  and  am  Justinian." 


104  JUSTINIAN  THE  GREAT, 

Into  the  mouth,  of  this  shadowy  shepherd  of 
men  he  puts  that  glorious  romantic  account  of 
the  growth  of  the  Roman  name  and  power :  — 

"What  it  achieved  from  Var  unto  the  Rhine, 
Isere  beheld  and  Saone,  beheld  the  Seine 
And  every  valley  whence  the  Rhone  is  filled ; 
What  it  achieved  when  it  had  left  Ravenna, 
And  leaped  the  Rubicon,  was  such  a  flight 
That  neither  tongue  nor  pen  could  follow  it." 

The  true  career  of  Justinian  appears  to  the 
mediaeval  poet  of  Italy  and  Catholicism  as  that 
of  a  "  living  justice  "  inspired  by  God,  as  the 
career  of  a  man  who  upheld  the  "  standard 
sacrosanct  "  of  order  and  equity,  and  thereby 

"  placed  the  world  in  so  great  peace 
That  unto  Janus  was  his  temple  closed.'* 

Elsewhere  (Canzone  XVIII.  v.  37)  he  gives 
voice  to  the  deepest  sentiment  of  the  Middle 
Ages,  when  he  hails  in  Italy  the  serene  and 
glorious  custodian  of  law  and  order,  the  true 
heiress  of  the  genius  and  calling  of  the  Im- 
perium  that  are  indelibly  stamped  on  the 
"  Pandects  "  and  "  Code  "  :  — 

"  0  patria,  degna  di  trionf al  fama, 

De'  magnanimi  madre, 
****** 

Segui  le  luci  di  Giustiniano, 

E  le  focose  tue  malgiuste  leggi 

Con  discrezion  correggi, 

Sicche  le  laudi  '1  mondo  e  '1  divin  regno." 


JUSTINIAN  THE  GREAT,  105 


VII. 


In  the  preceding  pages  little  has  been  said  of 
Justinian  from  an  ecclesiastical  point  of  view, 
partly  because  it  is  the  civil  or  profane  side  of 
his  life  that  here  attracts  us,  partly  because  of 
the  vast  and  absorbing  interest  of  the  questions 
and  problems  that  are  exhibited  when  we  lift  the 
innermost  veil  of  ecclesiastical  history.  It  was 
the  fate  of  Justinian  to  enter  upon  the  last  scene 
of  a  passionate  conflict  whose  unity  had  not 
been  broken  for  a  century.  The  motives  of  the 
last  protagonists  were  not  always  pure  or  praise- 
worthy. Local  jealousies,  festering  old  sores  of 
a  political  or  economic-social  nature,  velleities 
of  Coptic  and  Syrian  independence,  violent  con- 
tempt and  hatred  for  the  Royal  City  and  its 
Greek  bureaucracy  that  these  paid  back  with 
interest,  prevented  the  theological  questions  of 
the  day  from  being  viewed  by  all  in  the  dispas- 
sionate light  of  simple  faith  and  old  tradition. 
The  wrongs  of  Nestorius  were  still  a  rallying  cry 
in  Syria,  and  the  injustice  wreaked  on  Dioscorus 
still  roused  the  fellaheen  of  Egypt.  Obscene 
spirits,  as  usual,  abounded,  and  fished  fortune  out 
of  the  troubled  waters  along  which  moved  pain- 
fully the  bark  of  Peter.     Old  sects,  schisms,  and 


106  JUSTINIAN   THE  GREAT, 

heresies,  almost  forgotten  by  tlie  churchmen  of 
the  day,  still  lived  on  in  remote  corners  of  the 
Orient,  to  strike  hands  on  occasion  with  the 
Nestorian  or  Monophysite  against  the  common 
enemy  by  the  Golden  Horn.^  Here  theology 
and  tax-gathering  were  cultivated  with  equal 
ardor  until  the  broken  peasant  by  the  Nile  or 
the  Orontes  knew  not  what  he  hated  most  —  the 
latest  fiscal  oppression  or  the  noble  Tomus  of 
the  great  Leo  that  the  local  Monophysite  clergy 
had  so  distorted  as  to  make  it  pass  for  a  blast 
from  Antichrist. 

Every  emperor,  from  the  time  of  the  second 
Theodosius,  had  longed  to  close  these  gaping 
wounds,  and  had  even  attempted  the  same  with 
more  or  less  success.  In  the  wild  and  universal 
conflict  the   independence    of   the    ecclesiastical 

1  For  the  history  of  the  government  of  the  Greek  churches  in  and 
since  the  time  of  Justinian  the  work  of  Cardinal  Pitra  is  invaluable, 
"Juris  Ecclesiastici  Graeci  Historia  et  Monumenta"  (Rome,  1864- 
68,  2  vols.) ;  cf.  the  '« Oriens  Christianus"  of  Le  Quien  (Paris,  1740, 
3  vols.,  fol.),  and  the  precious  compilation  of  Leo  Allatius,  "  De 
Ecclesiae  Occidentalis  et  Orientalis  perpetua  consensione  "  (Cologne, 
1649).  Of  great  value  to  the  historian  are  the  materials  collected 
by  Miklosisch  and  Miiller,  "Acta  et  Diplomata  monasteriorum 
Orientis"  (1871-90,  3.  vols.),  and  by  Cardinal  Hergenrother, 
"Monumenta  Grseca  ad  Photium  ejusque  historiam  pertiuentia" 
(Ratisbon,  1869).  Usually  fair  and  well-informed  is  Neale,  "  His- 
tory of  the  Holy  Eastern  Church"  (London,  1847-50,  4  vols.),  of 
which  the  first  two  contain  a  general  introduction,  the  latter  a 
history  of  the  Patriarchate  of  Alexandria. 


JUSTINIAN  THE  GREAT.  107 

power  was  pushed  aside  as  secondary  to  the  res- 
toration of  outward  order  and  concord.  It  was  an 
age  of  great  personal  and  corporate  ambitions, 
on  the  part  of  the  Oriental  clergy  in  particular. 
The  rapid  successions  to  episcopal  sees,  brought 
about  by  heresy  and  schism,  roused  an  unholy 
cupidity  in  the  souls  of  men  otherwise  inoffen- 
sive to  Church  or  State.  Only  from  Rome  do 
we  hear  regularly  the  genuine  principles  of  the 
relations  of  the  two  powers,  and  only  there  is 
any  effective  resistance  preached  and  carried 
out  against  the  evil  Csesaro-papism  that  lurked 
in  every  imperial  heart  since  Constantine.^     Jus- 

1  Much  has  been  written  in  the  last  three  centuries  on  the  rela- 
tions of  Church  and  State  at  Constantinople.  Cf.  Riffel,  "  Ge- 
schichtliche  Darstellung  der  Verhandluugen  zwischen  Kirche  und 
Staat"  (Mainz,  1836),  Vol.  I.;  Niehues,  "  Geschichte  der  Ver- 
handluugen zwischen  Kaiserthum  und  Papsthum  im  Mittelalter" 
(Mtinster,  1877-90,  2  vols.).  The  monograph  of  A.  Gasquet, 
"L'Autorit6  imp^riale  en  matiere  religieuse  h  Byzance"  (Paris, 
1879),  and  his  "Etudes  Byzantines"  (ibid.,  1888),  are  of  superior 
worth.  Admirable  in  every  way  is  Charles  Diehl's  "Etude  sur 
I'administration  byzantine  en  Italic  "  (Paris,  1888),  especially  c.  vi., 
pp.  368-417,  on  the  relations  of  the  Roman  Church  with  the  Em- 
peror of  Constantinople.  They  may  be  read  most  usefully  in  con- 
nection with  the  notes,  of  the  Abb^  Duchesne  to  his  edition  of  the 
"  Liber  Pontificalis. "  Cf.  Ternovsky,  "  Die  griechische  Kirche  und 
die  Periode  der  allgemeinen  Kirchenversammlungen  "  (Kiew,  1883)  ; 
Gelzer,  "Die  politische  und kircliliche  Stellung  von Byzanz "  (Leip- 
zig, 1879)  ;  Krtiger,  "  Monophysitische  Streitigkeiten  im  Zusam- 
menhang  mit  der  Reichspolitik  "  (Jena,  1884).  These  latter  works 
are  colored  by  the  peculiar  convictions  of  their  learned  authors,  as  is 
also  Pichler,  "  Geschichte  der  kirchlichen  Trennung  zwischen  Orient 


108  JUSTINIAN  THE  GREAT. 

tinian  was  no  exception.  First  among  the  em- 
perors he  attains  the  character  of  a  theologian 
by  his  edicts  and  decrees  in  the  long  conflict 
that  arose  with  the  condemnation  of  Origenism 
and, ended  in  the  painful  business  of  the  Three 
Chapters.  Here  he  recalled  the  worst  day  of 
Arianism,  when  Constantius  at  Milan  laughed 
to  scorn  the  \Canons  of  the  Church  and  bade  the 
bishops  remember  that  he  was  their  Canon  Law. 
Justinian  had  been  brought  up  religiously;  the 
little  manual  of  conduct  that  the  good  deacon 
Agapetus  prepared  for  him  is  yet  preserved,  and 
has  always  been  highly  esteemed  as  the  parent 
of  those  numerous  Instructiones  Principum, 
Mo7iitio7ies,  and  the  like  that  we  meet  with  in 
the  Middle  Ages.  He  was  profuse,  by  word  and 
act,  in  his  devotion  to  the  Apostolic  See  of 
Peter;  he  acknowledged  the  supremacy  of  its 
authority  that  had  stood  a  rude  and  long  test 

und  Occident ' '  (Munich,  1864) .  The  Catholic  point  of  view  is  magis- 
terially expounded  in  the  first  volume  of  the  classic  work  of  Cardinal 
Hergenrother,  "Photius"  (Regensburg,  1867-69,  3  vols.).  It  also 
contains  the  best  r^sum^  of  Byzantine  church  history  before  Pho- 
tius. Of  this  work  Krumbacher,  the  historian  of  Byzantine  litera- 
ture, says  (p.  232) :  "  Hauptschrift  iiber  Photius  ist  und  bleibt  wohl 
noch  langer  Zeit  das  durch  Gelehrsamkeit  .und  Objectivitat  ausge- 
zeichnete  Werk  des  Kardinals  J.  Hergenrother."  In  Pitzipios, 
"L'Eglise  Orientale"  (Paris,  1888),  there  is  a  popular  description 
from  a  Catholic  viewpoint  of  the  politico-ecclesiastical  role  of  the 
city  and  clergy  of  Constantirnople  from  its  foundation. 


JUSTINIAN  THE  QBE  AT,  109 

in  the  Acacian  schism  just  closed,  and  the 
"Liber  Pontificalis"  relates  with  complacency  his 
gifts  to  the  Roman  churches.  He  received 
Pope  Agapetus  with  all  honor,  but  his  treat- 
ment of  the  unhappy  Vigilius  has  drawn  down 
on  him  the  merited  reprobation  of  all.^  Perhaps 
he  felt  less  esteem  for  the  person  of  the  latter, 
whom  he  had  known  intimately  as  a  companion 
of  Agapetus ;  perhaps,  too,  his  own  final  lapse 
into  the  heresy  of  an  extreme  Monophysite 
sect  was  a  just  sanction  for  the  violence  done 
to  a  sinning  but  repentant  successor  of  Peter. 
He  confirmed  the  ambition  of  the  patriarchs  of 
Constantinople  and  secured  finally  for  them  the 
second  rank,  at  least  in  honor.  Under  him  the 
third  canon  of  the  Council  of  Constantinople 
(381),  and  the  twenty-eighth  canon  of  the  Coun- 
cil of  Chalcedon  (451),  that  Rome  had  energeti- 
cally rejected,  were  tacitly  accepted.  In  the 
long  struggle  the  honor  and  the  liberties  of 
Alexandria  and  Antioch  had  gone  down  in 
spite  of  the  papal  efforts  to  save  them.  The 
consequences  of  this  w^ere  seen  within  a  century, 
in  the  rapid,  unhindered  spread  of  Islam  over 

1  Cf.  "Liber  Pontificalis''  (ed,  Duchesne),  s.v.  "Vigilius"  ;  Du- 
chesne, "Revue  des  Questions  Historiques"  (April,  1895)  ;  Thomas 
Hodgkin,  "Italy  and  Her  Invaders"  (Oxford,  1898,  2d  ed.),  Vol. 
IV.,  c.  xxiii.;  "The  Sorrows  of  Vigilius,"  pp.  571-594. 


110  JUSTINIAN  THE  GREAT. 

Egypt  and  Syria,  and  its  assimilation  of  Persia, 
whereby  the  fall  of  Constantinople  was  made 
certain.  He  ruled  the  churches  at  pleasure 
and  with  a  rod  of  iron,  divided  ecclesiastical 
provinces,  deposed  and  exiled  the  highest  pa- 
triarchs, and  not  .only  humiliated  St.  Peter 
in  the  person  of  Vigilius,  but  compelled  his 
successors  to  ask  for  imperial  confirmation  and 
to  send  large  sums  of  money  to  secure  it.  It 
was  well  for  the  churches  that  no  second  Jus- 
tinian followed  him.  But  his  despotic  temper 
and  his  precedents  were  not  soon  forgotten. 
Perhaps  it  may  be  urged  for  him  that  he  met 
habitually  only  a  weak  and  sycophantic  curial 
clergy,  and  that  the  ancient  bonds  of  empire 
were  all  but  dissolved  in  the  Orient.  He  is 
still  remembered  in  the  Greek  Church  for  his 
hymns,  one  of  which  is  still  in  frequent   use.^ 


1  "  Only-begotten  Son  and  Word  of  God,  Immortal,  Who  didst 
vouchsafe  for  our  salvation  to  take  flesh  of  the  holy  Mother  of 
God  and  Ever-Virgin  Mary,  and  didst  without  mutation  become 
man  and  wast  crucified,  Christ  our  God,  and  by  death  didst  over- 
come death,  being  One  of  the  Holy  Trinity  and  glorified  together 
with  the  Father  and  the  Holy  Ghost,  save  us." — Julian,  "Dic- 
tionary of  Hymnology "  (London,  1892),  p.  460.  Cf.  Edmond 
Bouvy,  "Les  Origines  de  la  Po^sie  Chr^tienne,"  in  "Lettres  Chr6- 
tiennes"  (1882),  Vol.  IV.,  and  for  the  hymn,  "Christ  and  Parani- 
kas,"  ''  Anthologia  Graeca  Carminum  Christianorum  "  (Leipzig, 
1871),  p.  52;  Stevenson,  "  Du  rhythme  dans  I'hymnographie 
grecque"  {Correspondant,  October,  1876),  and  the  epoch-making 


JUSTINIAN  THE  GREAT.  Ill 

Indeed,  lie  is,  perhaps,  the  oldest  hymnographer 
of  the  Greeks.  But  when  all  has  been  said,  it 
remains  true  that  his  was  the  timely,  welcome, 
and  long  reign  of  an  orthodox  emperor,  that 
he  broke  the  impact  of  Monophysitism,  that  he 
was  generous  beyond  measure  to  the  churches, 
and  to  the  poor  extremely  charitable.  The 
Christian  episcopate  of  the  East  looked  on  him 
as  a  father  and  a  providence,  and  in  the  storms 
of  the  century  he  was  never  too  far  below  his 
high  calling.  The  Western  churches  loved  to 
remember  him  as  he  is  depicted  in  mosaic  in 
San  Yitale  at  Ravenna,  clad  in  imperial  purple, 
surrounded  by  his  officers  of  state  and  offering 
gifts  to  the  bishop  of  that  see.^ 


essay  of  Cardinal  Pitra,   "  Hymnographie  de  I'ifeglise  Grecque" 
(Rome,  1867). 

1  The  admirable  writings  of  Charles  Diehl  on  the  Byzantine 
regime  in  the  sixth  and  seventh  centuries  are  especially  worthy  of 
commendation,  notably  his  "  Justiuien  "  (Paris,  1902).  Justinian 
holds  a  place  of  honor  among  the  writers  of  Christian  hymns ;  cf . 
W.  Christ  and  M.  Paranikas,  "  Anthologia  Grseca  Carminum 
Christianorum  "  (Leipzig,  1871).  For  his  policy  in  matters  of  re- 
ligion, cf.  the  dissertations  of  F.  Diekamp,  "  Die  Origenistischen 
Streitigkeiten  im  VI.  Jahrhundert "  (Miinster,  1899),  and  Hist. 
Jahrhuch  (1900),  Vol.  XXI.,  pp.  743-757;  A.  Knecht,  "Die  Reli- 
gionspolitik  Kaiser  Justiniaus  I."  (Wiirzburg,  1896),  and  the 
article  "  Origenistic  Controversies"  in  Smith  and  Wace,  "Dic- 
tionary of  Christian  Biography,"  Vol.  IV.  The  golden  booklet "  On 
the  Duties  of  a  Christian  Ruler,"  dedicated  to  the  emperor  in  532, 
by  his  teacher,  the  deacon  Agapetus,  may  be  read  in  Migne,  PG. , 


112  JUSTINIAN  THE  GREAT, 

To  the  bishops  of  the  West,  standing  amid 
the  ruins  of  Roman  civilization,  his  person  and 
reign  appeared  like  those  of  another  Constantine. 
He  was,  indeed,  a  beacon  light,  set  fair  and  firm 
where  the  old  world  of  Greece  and  Rome  came 
to  an  end,  and  along  its  last  stretches  the 
stormy  ocean  of  mediaeval  life  already  beat 
threateningly. 

Ixxxvi.,  1163-86.  It  opens  worthily  the  long  and  important  series 
of  mediaeval  3fonita  and  Instructiones  for  princes,  that  contain  so 
much  Christian  pedagogical  material,  and  are  usually  neglected  in 
all  histories  of  mediaeval  pedagogy. 


THE  RELIGION   OF   ISLAM. 

The  dogma  of  Islam  is  simple  —  one  all-pow- 
erful God  whose  prophet  is  Mohammed,  and  who 
will  reward  the  good  and  punish  the  wicked. 
But  Allah  is  remote  from  the  world,  toward 
which  he  is  indeed  merciful  through  his  prophets, 
but  between  which  and  him  there  exists  no  rela- 
tion of  fatherhood  and  sonship.  Islam  recog- 
nizes a  revelation  closed  in  Mohammed,  but  no 
absolute  necessity  of  redemption,  hence  no  Incar- 
nation of  Christ,  who  is  to  the  Mohammedan 
only  one  of  the  admirable  human  prophets  whom 
God  sent  at  divers  times  and  whose  line  ends  in 
the  son  of  Abdallah.  It  denies  the  Trinity  and 
travesties  the  Christian  conception  of  that  august 
mystery.  While  it  admits  intermediary  spirits, 
inspiration,  the  last  judgment,  and  the  resurrec- 
tion of  the  body,  it  clothes  all  these  teachings  in 
a  gross,  sensual,  and  repugnant  form,  which  robs 
them  of  that  divine  charm  that  they  possess  in 
the  Christian  presentment  of  them.  The  Koran 
is  the  Bible  of  Islam,  or  rather  its  fetich,  and 
upon  and  about   it   the   doctors   have  built  in 

113 


114  THE  UELIGION  OF  ISLAM, 

the  course  of  time  a  very  Babel  of  expositions 
and  human  traditions,  which  in  daily  life  affect 
the  morality  of  Mohammedans  no  less  than  the 
teachings  of  their  Sacred  Book  itself. 

Abul  Kasem  Ibn  Abdallah,  usually  styled 
Mohammed  or  Mahomet  (the  praised),' was  born 
about  570  A.D.  at  Mecca,  in  the  Hijaz  or  west- 
ern part  of  Arabia,  not  far  from  the  Red  Sea, 
amid  the  bare  granite  hills  and  sandy  wastes  of 
that  loneliest  and  most  monotonous  of  regions. 
From  the  middle  of  the  fifth  century  Mecca  had 
been  the  centre  of  a  little  religious  state,  whose 
chief  object  of  worship  was  the  Kaaba,  or  holy 
black  stone,  supposed  to  have  been  given  by  an 
angel  to  Ishmael,  the  father  of  the  Arabs,  and 
close  to  which  was  the  sacred  well  Zemzem, 
which  sprang  up  in  the  desert  for  Hagar  and 
her  son  during  their  wanderings.  The  inhab- 
itants of  the  town  lived  by  commerce,  for  the 
Kaaba  had  already  become  the  national  sanctu- 
ary of  many  of  the  Arab  tribes,  and  at  the  yearly 
fairs  during  the  four  months  of  the  Sacred  Truce 
its  streets  were  filled  with  the  Bedouin,  whose 
usual  home  was  on  the  pathless  wastes,  beneath 
the  cloudless  skies  of  a  land  phenomenally  rain- 
less. Religion  and  commerce,  friendship  and 
poetry,  drew  the  children  of  the  desert  yearly  to 


THE  RELIGION   OF  ISLAM.       ,  115 

Mecca.  They  met  there  the  caravans  returning 
from  Palestine,  Syria,  and  Persia,  and  there  they 
joined  in  the  famous  poetical  tournaments,  of 
which  some  remnant  is  left  in  the  elegant  Moal- 
lakats  or  ''  suspended"  poems,  said  to  have  been 
so  named  because  written  in  letters  of  gold  on 
parchment  or  silk  and  hung  up  on  the  curtains 
of  the  Kaaba.  They  were  a  fierce,  natural,  sen- 
sual race,  self-reliant  and  daring,  trusting  to  the 
camel  and  the  horse,  overflowing  with  the  love 
of  life  and  pleasure,  but  ever  conscious  that  the 
sum  of  both  was  an  evanescent  quantity  — 
hence  the  streak  of  gravity  and  melancholy 
which  runs  through  their  ancient  poetic  remains. 
Their  lives  ran  on  between  the  simjDle  pursuits  of 
a  nomadic  pastoral  life  and  a  constant  series  of 
razzias  and  vendettas,  arising  often  from  the  most 
trivial  cause,  but  which  became  sacred  legacies 
through  the  intense  domestic  attachments  of  a 
people  who  had  yet  no  higher  notion  of  the  State 
than  a  congeries  of  families.  Withal,  there  were 
sprouting  strong  germs  of  national  consciousness 
in  the  similarity  of  tastes  and  pursuits,  the  un- 
mixed strain  of  blood,  the  songs  of  the  poets  and 
the  ancient  genealogies,  the  souvenirs  of  com- 
mon losses  and  common  victories.  They  defied 
from  time  immemorial  the  yoke  of  the  stranger. 


116  THE  RELIGION  OF  ISLAM. 

Persia,  Rome,  and  Byzantium  had  never  been  able 
to  obtain  more  than  a  precarious  footing  on  their 
confines.  They  believed  in  a  confused  way  in 
one  God,  but  they  prayed  to  the  stars,  to  their 
amulets,  to  genii  and  ogres  and  demons.  It 
needed  only  an  enthusiast  from  their  own  race 
to  compact  the  scattered  elements  of  greatness 
which  these  clear,  hard,  passionate,  untutored 
men  offered  to  the  founder  of  a  religion  or  a 
state.  This  was  the  work  of  Mohammed,  and 
in  it  he  was  singularly  favored  by  internal  and 
external  circumstances. 

The  morality  of  the  Moslem  may  be  reduced 
to  the  five  great  points  and  to  the  practice  of 

certain   natural   virtues.      The   five    command- 

* 

ments  are  the  confession  of  Allah  and  his 
prophet  Mohammed,  prayer  by  prostration  to- 
ward Mecca  five  times  a  day,  fasting  from  sun- 
rise to  sunset  daring  the  month  of  Ramadan,  at 
least  one  pilgrimage  to  Mecca,  and  the  bestowal 
of  two  and  one-half  per  cent,  of  one's  property 
in  alms.  Add  the  duty  of  sacred  war,  the  fre- 
quent ablutions,  and  the  observance  of  Friday 
(without  cessation  of  labor)  as  a  holy  day  and 
we  have  the  substance  of  the  precepts  of  the 
Moslem  morality.  Honesty,  benevolence,  mod- 
esty, fraternity,  and   charity  are  recommended, 


THE  RELIGION  OF  ISLAM.  117 

especially  among  the  Moslems.  Deceit,  lying, 
and  slander  are  severely  reproved,  while  gam- 
bling and  the  use  of  wine  and  other  intoxicating 
liquors  are  forbidden.  Their  external  morality 
is  essentially  Talmudic,  interwoven  with  a  mul- 
titude of  minute  essential  ceremonies.  They 
acknowledge  to  woman  a  soul,  the  hope  of  im- 
mortality, and  certain  civil  rights,  but  polyg- 
amy, divorce,  slavery,  and  a  jealous  seclusion 
make  her  life  that  of  an  inferior  and  degraded 
being. 

Sin  is  the  contravention  of  legal  enactment; 
the  Mussulman  does  not  comj)reliend  the  Chris- 
tian idea  that  there  is  an  inherent  right  and 
wrong  in  human  actions,  that  God  is  a  moral 
being.  To  him  He  is  an  absolute  Oriental  mon- 
arch, who  has  hung  irrevocably  the  fate  of  each 
man  about  his  neck  and  toward  whom  the 
chief,  almost  the  only,  feeling  is  an  exaggerated 
and  sickly  quietism,  Islam,  which  means  submis- 
sion or  resignation.  Fatalism,  the  almost  utter 
absence  of  correct  notions  concerning  the  spirit- 
ual life,  the  degrading  example  of  the  private 
life  of  the  prophet  who  is  for  the  Moslem  the 
most  stainless  of  men,  the  absolute  exclu- 
siveness  and  intolerance  of  their  religion,  the 
impracticable  amalgamation  of  the  civil  and  the 


118  THE  RELIGION  OF  ISLAM. 

spiritual^  the  pseudo-theocratic  basis  of  social 
life  —  all  these  elements  are  working  to  keep 
Mohammedanism  a  stationary  religion,  except 
among  races  of  very  inferior  cultiu-e.  It  is  yet 
powerful  in  Asia  and  Africa,  where  it  controls 
the  souls  of  two  hundred  millions,  but  with  its 
political  reverses,  it  has  lost  the  secret  of  its 
success,  and  the  four  hundred  millions  of  pro- 
gressive and  energetic  Christendom  no  longer 
fear  the  crescent,  as  in  days  of  old,  when  it 
waved  simultaneously  in  Spain  and  Greece,  in 
Italy,  Austria,  and  Hungary,  and  was  only  kept 
at  bay  by  a  line  of  venerable  pontiffs,  who 
found  in  the  sole  religion  of  Christ  the  means  of 
arresting  the  triumphant  course  of  Oriental  fa- 
naticism and  sensuality. 

Mohammed  grew  up  poor,  under  the  care  of 
near  relatives.  He  was  a  posthumous  son,  and 
his  mother,  a  sickly,  nervous  woman,  died  while 
he  was  yet  a  child.  He  herded  sheep  and 
gathered  wild  berries  for  a  living.  Moslem 
writers  relate  many  legendary  and  miraculous 
tales  of  this  period,  but  they  are  evidently  later 
inventions  meant  to  glorify  the  youth  of  the 
prophet  and  to  accredit  his  revelations.  In  time 
he  entered  the  service  of  a  rich  widow,  Kadidja, 
and  after  several   commercial   journeys   in   her 


THE  RELIGION  OF  ISLAM,  119 

interest,  espoused  her  in  his  twenty-fifth  year. 
It  was  the  turning-point  of  his  fortunes,  for, 
though  of  the  distinguished  family  of  the  Ko- 
raish,  he  had  inherited  ahnost  nothing.  With 
Kadidja  he  obtained  not  only  social  prominence 
and  wealth,  but  a  woman  of  spirit  and  intelli- 
gence, who  plays  no  small  part  in  his  career. 
About  610  A.D.  certain  strange  dreams  and 
visions  began  to  haunt  him.  He  was  naturally 
of  a  high-strung,  excitable  temperament,  and 
according  to  some  authorities,  an  epileptic. 
Certainly  he  manifested  in  this  period  of  his 
life  unmistakable  symptoms  of  hysteria  or  of 
catalepsy.  Long  swoons,  during  which  he  re- 
mained unconscious,  were  not  uncommon.  His 
mind  ran  much  on  religious  questions,  and  he 
was  wont  to  retire  yearly  for  a  considerable  time 
to  a  mountain  near  Mecca  for  prayer  and  medi- 
tation. On  one  of  these  occasions  he  seemed  to 
see  the  angel  Gabriel,  who  held  before  him  a 
silken  scroll,  on  which  he  read  that  "  man  walk- 
eth  in  delusion  when  he  deems  that  he  suffices 
for  himself ;  to  the  Lord  they  must  all  return." 
From  this  time,  for  two  or  three  years,  he  was 
much  troubled,  but  Kadidja  comforted  and 
guided  him,  with  the  result  that  all  waverings 
passed  away  and  he  arose  convinced  of  his  mis- 


120  THE  RELIGION  OF  ISLAM, 

sion.  At  least  it  would  seem  that  he  was  honest 
.  in  the  early  part  of  his  career,  whatever  we  may 
think  of  his  later  accommodation  and  tergiver- 
sation. To  these  years  belong  the  older  parts  of 
the  Koran  and  many  of  the  purer  and  better 
elements  of  the  revelation  which  he  went  on 
piecing  together  from  day  to  day.  It  was  in  this 
period  also  that  he  fell  in  with  the  Hanifs,  or  Ara- 
bian ascetics,  who  seemed  to  have  been  half  Chris- 
tian, and  to  have  practised  many  of  the  virtues  of 
those  Christian  solitaries  who  peo|)led  the  deserts 
of  the  border-land  between  Syria  and  Arabia,  and 
who  exercised  from  the  beginning  a  profound 
influence  on  the  neighboring  Saracens  or  Bedouin 
Heretical  priests,  Jewish  teachers,  and  Arabian 
monks  seem  to  have  had  no  small  share  in  the 
formation  of  his  spiritual  character,  and  the 
influences  of  Christianity  are  all  the  more  proba- 
ble because  of  his  condition  as  a  merchant  and 
his  voyages  into  Palestine  and  Syria. 

Whatever  be  the  complex  origin  of  his  beliefs, 
he  made  converts  slowly.  His  wife,  his  cousin 
Ali,  his  father-in-law  Abu-bekr,  an  old  slave 
Zaid,  and  a  few  others  were  all  who  came 
around  him  at  first.  His  preaching  was  dis- 
tasteful to  the  Meccans,  and  the  Koraish  would 
have  done  him  bodily  harm  if  they  did  not  fear 


THE  RELIGION  OF  ISLAM.  121 

his  uncle,  Abti  Talib,  the  head  of  the  family. 
Several  of  his  followers  suffered  much  from 
the  townsmen,  who  were  incensed  at  a  preach- 
ing that  decried  their  idols  and  threatened  to 
hurt  trade  and  business.  They  were  sheltered 
by  the  Christian  Abyssinians.  Mohammed  en- 
tered on  a  kind  of  compromise  at  this  juncture, 
but  soon  regretted  it,  whereupon  the  Meccans 
decided  on  his  death.  But  he  escaped  by  the 
aid  of  his  family,  especially  of  Ali,  his  most  de- 
voted cousin,  and  took  refuge  in  Yahtrib  (Me- 
dina), where  he  had  already  made  a  number  of 
converts,  who  had  agreed  to  sustain  him  in 
spite  of  the  opposition  arid  the  interdict  of  the 
Koraish  of  Mecca.  This  is  the  famous  Hegira, 
or  flight  of  Mohammed,  in  the  month  of  June, 
622,  from  which  date  the  Moslems  have  since 
counted  the  flow  of  time.  Jewish  proselytism. 
Messianic  hopes,  reminiscences  of  Christian 
virtue,  had  long  been  rife  in  Medina,  and  they 
now  met  in  the  head  of  a  melancholy  religious 
dreamer,  together  with  scraps  of  apocrjrphal 
gospels  and  ignorant  heretical  expositions  of 
Christianity.  It  was  a  marvellous  period. 
All  over  the  Orient  a  hundred  heresies  were  pul- 
lulating, and  in  the  unhealthy  spiritual  activity 
of  the  time  many  could  not  see  the  great  differ- 


122  THE  RELIGION  OF  ISLAM. 

ence  between  the  simple  dogma,  the  rational  cul- 
tus,  the  earnest,  moral  ideal  of  Mohammed 
and  many  an  heretical  travesty  of  the  Christian 
teaching.  At  Medina  Mohammed  built  the 
first  plain  mosque,  instituted  the  Moslem 
clergy,  and  laid  the  foundations  of  the  theocracy 
which  has  since  done  service  as  a  government 
in  a  great  part  of  the  Orient.  His  skill  and 
success  as  a  judge  won  the  hearts  of  those  of 
Medina,  and  he  soon  enjoyed  the  confidence 
of  the  entire  community.  From  622  to  630  he 
waged  war  with  the  Meccans,  intercepted  their 
caravans,  overthrew  their  armies,  and  finally 
besieged  and  took  th^  holy  city  in  January  of 
the  latter  year. 

The  conquest  of  the  national  sanctuary  re- 
acted powerfully  upon  Mohammed  and  Islam. 
At  heart  he  was  an  Arab  and  a  Meccan.  He 
loved  the  glory  and  renown  of  his  race.  The 
Koraish,  once  his  enemies,  came  over  to  him 
and  took  control  of  the  movement.  What  was 
once  an  individual,  internal,  spiritual  enterprise 
became  a  carnal,  external  pursuit  of  glory, 
power,  and  booty.  The  idols  were  destroyed,  it 
is  true,  but  transformed  into  minor  spirits  — 
djinn,  div,  peri,  and  the  like ;  the  holy  stone  of 
the  Kaaba  remained  intact ;  Mecca  was  the  na- 


THE  RELIGION  OF  ISLAM.  123 

tional  and  holy  capital ;  most  of  the  ancient 
ceremonies  were  retained.  It  cost  the  Arabs  no 
change  of  heart,  for  there  had  never  been  more 
at  stake  than  the  business  chances  of  the  city, 
and  that  was  settled  by  the  victory  of  Moham- 
med and  the  acceptance  of  his  formulas,  for 
which  they  otherwise  found  justification  in 
their  ancient  traditions  of  monotheism.  They 
passionately  loved  booty  and  the  foray,  and 
the  revelations  of  Mohammed  and  the  successes 
of  eight  years  opened  up  an  endless  vista  of 
war  and  pillage  —  even  the  conquest  of  those  dim, 
outlying  worlds  of  Persia  and  Byzantium.  The 
state  of  Medina  had  conquered  the  state  of 
Mecca,  only  to  bring  to  the  latter  the  homage  of 
victory.  From  every  quarter  came  in  adhesions 
to  the  political  revolution  in  response  to  the 
missionaries  sent  out  by  Mohammed,  and  be- 
fore his  death,  in  June,  632,  he  had  the  satis- 
faction of  seeing  all  the  masses  of  Arabian 
society  accept  the  inevitable,  and  enter  the  new 
Semitic  alliance.  The  Christian  tribes  were  too 
weak  to  resist,  but  the  Jews  and  the  Magians 
made  a  bolder  front,  and  for  a  while  were  re- 
spected. 

Prominent  among  the  means  of  spreading  the 
doctrine  of  Islam  was  the  Koran,  which  means 


124  THE  RELIGION  OF  ISLAM. 

reading  or  recitation,  i.e.  the  revelations  made 
by  the  Holy  Spirit  or  Gabriel  to  the  prophet.  It 
consists  of  one  hundred  and  sixteen  sicras  or 
chapter-like  divisions,  each  of  which  contains 
from  three  to  nearly  three  hundred  verses.  The 
whole  is  scarcely  as  large  as  the  New  Testament 
and  contains  an  extremely  varied  matter  —  cere- 
monial and  civil  laws,  answers  and  reproofs,  dis- 
quisitions on  the  attributes  of  God,  attacks  on 
idolaters,  the  Jews,  and  Christians,  narratives  of 
prophets  and  saints,  travesties  of  Christian 
teaching,  echoes  and  even  technical  terms  from 
the  Talmud,  histories  from  the  New  Testament 
Apocrypha,  and  a  chaotic  mass  of  instruction 
without  any  order,  logical  or  chronological.  It 
is  full  of  the  grossest  errors  and  betrays  the  ab- 
sence of  all  literary  culture  in  its  compilers.  It 
is  doubtful  whether  Mohammed  ever  wrote  any- 
thing —  doubtful  whether  there  were  any  Arabic 
books  in  the  strict  sense  before  his  time.  The 
Koran  appears  to  many  critics  to  be  the  first 
written  work  in  the  tongue,  though  the  latter 
was  long  since  a  polished  language.  Its  con- 
tents range  all  the  way  from  short,  oracular 
statements,  that  seem  as  though  torn  from  the 
speaker  under  violent  pressure,  to  cool,  deliberate 
legislation.      Much  of  it  is  surely  the  work  of 


THE  BELIGION  OF  ISLAM.  125 

reflection,  compiled  with  deliberate  intent  to 
deceive,  according  as  the  circumstances  made 
revelations  useful  or  handy.  Its  gradual  origin 
is  tangible  in  the  number  of  abrogated  laws  that 
it  contains.  In  its  present  form  it  dates  from 
the  Chalif  Othman,  about  the  middle  of  the 
seventh  century,  who  had  a  new  recension  made 
of  the  original  compilation,  executed  by  Zaid, 
the  former  amanuensis  of  Mohammed,  at  the 
command  of  Omar.  At  that  time  the  suras 
were  preserved  only  on  bits  of  flat  stones,  on 
pieces  of  leather,  ribs  of  palm  leaves,  and  in  the 
memory  of  the  companions  of  the  prophet.  Yet 
it  is  believed  that  we  have  the  Koran  substan- 
tially as  it  was  current  shortly  after  the  prophet's 
death.  The  Moslems  believe  that  it  is  eternal 
and  uncreated,  immanent  in  God  as  His  divine 
word,  and  that  it  came  down  from  heaven  in  a 
series  of  descents.  According  to  the  Hanbalite 
sect,  it  lay  from  all  eternity  upon  a  shining  white 
table  of  stone  as  broad  as  from  east  to  west  and 
as  long  as  from  earth  to  heaven,  while  an  angel 
with  drawn  sword  stood  guard  over  it.  The 
Mohammedan  looks  upon  its  style  as  something 
inimitably  perfect  and  a  sufficient  guarantee  of 
its  divine  inspiration.  It  is  certain  that  it  pos- 
sesses considerable  beauty,  much   wild  force  of 


126  THE  RELIGION  OF  ISLAM. 

passion,  high  imagery^  and  vigorous  rhetoric. 
But  all  European  Orientalists  do  not  see  such 
sustained  perfection  in  its  rhymed  phrase.  Ac- 
cording to  Noeldeke,  there  is  much  verbiage  in 
it,  loose  connection  of  thought,  repetition  of  the 
same  words  and  phrases ;  in  fact,  the  book 
shows  that  the  prophet  was  no  master  of  style, 
although  such  a  statement  is  worse  than  poly- 
theism to  the  ears  of  a  pious  Turk  or  Arab. 

The  doctrine  of  Islam  was  spread  by  the 
sword.  The  idolaters,  the  heathen,  were  exter- 
minated ;  the  Jews  and  Christians,  as  "  the  peo- 
ple of  the  Book,"  were  permitted  to  live,  but  in 
the  most  humiliating  subjection  and  surrounded 
"with  odious  restrictions.  For  a  long  time  the 
intercourse  of  the  latter  with  the  Greek  Empire 
was  absolutely  forbidden,  and  the  lot  of  the  Ori- 
ental churches  in  the  seventh  and  eighth  cen- 
turies was  the  saddest  imaginable.  There  have 
been  wars  innumerable  among  Christians  in  the 
name  of  religion  —  persecution,  too,  and  oppres- 
sion —  but  they  are  against  the  sweet,  mild  law 
of  Jesus ;  whereas,  according  to  the  teachings  of 
Mohammed,  the  sacred  war  ought  to  be  chronic. 
Islam  is  a  national  Arabic  travesty  of  some  of 
the  best  elements  of  Judaism  and  Christianity, 
elevated  to  the  dignity  of  a  universal  religion. 


THE  BELIGION  OF  ISLAM.  127 

It  is  a  poor,  weak,  grotesque  worship,  such  as 
might  arise  in  the  brain  of  a  cataleptic  visionary 
and  in  the  midst  of  a  half-savage  people.  Like 
all  national  religions,  it  identifies  the  State  and 
the  Church.  Its  pilgrimage  to  Mecca,  prohibi- 
tion of  wine,  the  veneration  of  the  Kaaba,  and 
similar  essential  points,  are  no  more  than  univer- 
salized Arabism.  And  it  was  the  sense  of  politi- 
cal greatness,  of  national  destiny,  together  with 
possible  demoniac  aid,  that  made  its  first  fol- 
lowers so  fanatically  brave  that  everything 
yielded  before  their  awful  onslaught.  No  doubt 
the  religious  element  was  not  wanting.  The 
joys  of  paradise,  the  fatalist  belief,  the  personal 
enthusiasm  for  the  prophet,  worked  wonderfully 
on  the  desert  tribes  and  helped  to  make  them 
the  scourge  of  Christendom. 

The  Christians  of  Syria,  Palestine,  and  Egypt 
were  sadly  divided  when  Islam  arose.  The 
christological  heresies  of  two  centuries  had  filled 
every  rank  of  society  with  division  and  embitter- 
ment.  Long-concealed  national  impulses  began 
to  throb  in  the  breasts  of  peoples  never  willingly 
subject  to  Roman  rule.  Persecuted  heretics 
opened  the  gates  of  Egypt  and  Syria  as,  two 
centuries  earlier,  the  Donatists  delivered  up 
Africa  to  the  Vandals.    Religious  oppression  and 


128  THE  RELIGION  OF  ISLAM. 

the  civil  despotism  of  Constantinople  reaped  the 
same  reward  on  the  same  day,  and  whole  nations 
laboriously  won  for  Christ  were  for  centuries 
lost  to  religion  and  culture.  Both  Rome  and 
Persia  were  exhausted  after  more  than  three 
centuries  of  irregular  warfare,  and  military  valor 
had  declined  in  both  States.  In  the  rapid  spread 
of  the  teachings  of  the  prophet  we  must  see  also 
a  providential  chastisement  of  the  discord,  in- 
justice, tyranny,  and  immorality  which  fill  the 
pages  of  Oriental  Church  history  in  the  sixth 
and  seventh  centuries.  Endless  heresies  had  so 
disfigured  the  Christian  faith  in  the  regions  in 
which  Islam  first  emerged  that  many  might 
be  pardoned  for  not  seeing  in  it  anything  worse 
than  the  ordinary  forms  of  heretical  Christianity. 
We  must  also  remember  that  Islam  may  be 
meant  to  serve  as  a  stepping-stone,  a  transition, 
for  those  races  whose  low  mental  culture  does 
not  permit  them  at  once  to  appreciate  so  intel- 
lectual a  religion  as  the  Christian.  It  has  served 
as  a  bulwark  against  the  Mongol  hordes  to  pre- 
vent any  such  human  flood  as  that  which  Attila  let 
loose  in  the  fifth  century.  The  Arab  kingdom  of 
Spain  deserves  well  of  letters  and  the  sciences 
for  its  services  in  the  eighth  and  ninth  centuries, 
though  the  origin  and  the  spirit  of  this  literary 


THE  RELIGION  OF  ISLAM.  129 

culture  are  not  to  be  sought  in  the  depressing, 
intolerant  Koran,  but  in  the  literature  of  Greece, 
preserved  for  them  bj  Christian  hands.  Mediae- 
val scholasticism  owes  no  small  debt  to  the  men 
who  kept  alive  the  study  of  Aristotle,  and  their 
dangerous  philosophical  heresies  were  the  spurs 
which  urged  on  men  like  Aquinas  and  Bonaven- 
tura  to  plan  and  execute  a  successful  reconcilia- 
tion of  the  philosophy  of  the  Stagirite  with 
Christ  and  the  Church  —  a  problem  that  seemed 
an  impossibility  to  a  Tertullian.  The  polemics 
against  the  Moslem  from  St.  John  Damascene 
and  Theodore  Abukara  down  to  Raymond  Lullus 
sharpened  the  Christian  intellect  and  kept  alive 
abstract  and  philosophical  studies  where  they 
might  have  died  out  for  want  of  practical 
utility.  It  is  to  this  practical  need  that  we  owe 
the  famous  work  of  St.  Thomas,  "  Contra 
Gentes." 

In  another  direction,  too,  the  Moslem  was  des- 
tined to  influence  Western  Christendom.  Under 
the  best  caliphs  and  in  the  palmy  days  of  Arab 
rule,  the  sciences  flourished  in  an  eminent  de- 
gree. We  find  in  their  literature  many  gram- 
marians and  lexicographers  of  note,  poets  in 
abundance  and  of  a  high  order,  translators  of 
many  important  works  from  Persian  and  San- 


130  THE  RELIGION  OF  ISLAM. 

scrit,  Greek  and  Syriac,  among  which  occur 
more  than  one  ancient  Christian  text.  They 
pursued  tlie  studies  of  astronomy  and  mathe- 
matics with  great  eagerness,  and  in  their  pas- 
sion for  alchemy  were  the  forerunners  of  modern 
chemistry.  The  Hteratures  of  Greece,  Persia, 
and  India  found  sympathetic  admirers  at  Bag- 
dad and  Cordova.  History  and  geography 
flourished,  and  there  is  scarcely  a  century  with- 
out some  excellent  chroniclers,  geographers,  and 
cosmographers,  at  a  time,  too,  when  the  latter 
class  of  studies  was  greatly  neglected  in  the 
Christian  West,  which  can  only  show  for  the 
same  period  the  small  geography  of  the  Irishman 
Dicuil.  The  commerce  of  the  Middle  Ages  was 
to  a  great  extent  in  their  hands.  They  traded  in 
times  of  peace  with  Constantinople,  where  they 
had  great  privileges.  Their  ships  went  to 
India  and  even  into  the  China  seas.  Their 
caravans  went  by  land  from  Tangier  to  Jerusalem 
and  from  Damascus  to  the  Great  Wall  of  China. 
They  penetrated  deep  into  Northern  Africa  and 
sought  ivory  and  black  slaves  on  the  eastern 
coast  of  that  continent.  The  silks  of  China  and 
the  spices,  camphor,  steel,  and  precious  woods  of 
India  were  poured  into  their  markets,  while  in 
turn    they    exported    the    finest    glass,    dates, 


THE  BELIGIOJSr  OF  ISLAM,  131 

refined  sugar,  mirrors,  and  blades  of  steel ;  fabrics 
of  silk  and  gauze  and  brocade ;  figured  muslins 
and  striped  satin  stuffs.  Tools,  carpets,  jewellery, 
and  trinkets  were  among  the  staple  articles  of 
manufacture.  The  papyrus,  and  later  the  paper, 
used  by  the  Western  Christians  were  the  product 
of  the  Moslems,  and  it  was  no  small  annoyance 
to  the  imperial  and  pontifical  chanceries  to  have 
to  use  writing  materials  that  bore  the  water 
mark  of  Allah  and  the  prophet.  All  the  trades 
and  industries  reached  a  high  degree  of  prosperity, 
and  in  every  city  the  retail  commerce  was  repre- 
sented by  shoemakers,  saddlers,  dyers,  fruiterers, 
grocers,  armorers,  booksellers,  druggists,  per- 
fumers, and  a  host  of  similar  small  merchants. 
The  Crusades  let  down  the  barriers  between 
the  Orient  and  the  Occident,  and  thus  the  ac- 
cumulated treasures  of  the  former  —  literary,  ar- 
tistic, and  social  —  became  at  once  the  common 
property  of  mankind.  The  intellectual  wealth 
and  the  general  refinement  of  the  Oriental  peo- 
ples could  not  be  withheld  from  the  West,  but 
the  struggle  for  political  supremacy  grew  all  the 
fiercer.  From  Godfrey  of  Bouillon  to  Mark 
Antonio  Colonna  is  a  distance  of  five  centuries, 
but  it  needed  all  that  time  to  curb  the  courage 
and  determination  of  the  hosts  of  Islam.     It  is 


132  THE  RELIGION  OF  ISLAM. 

the  popes  to  whom  belong  the  chief  honor  of 
this  long  and  glorious  conflict.  It  was  they  who 
saw  that  a  religion  of  the  sword  must  be  fought 
with  the  sword  and  who  led  on  the  forces  of 
Christendom  with  never-failing  courage  and  pru- 
dence. Charles  Martel  and  Godfrey  de  Bouillon, 
Richard  Coeur  de  Lion  and  Don  Juan  of  Austria, 
were  the  lay  leaders  of  this  astounding  conflict. 
But  in  the  spiritual  background  we  see  the 
figures  of  the  popes  of  the  seventh  century 
already  concerned  with  the  growth  of  Islam. 
Gregory  IV.,  in  the  middle  of  the  ninth,  rebuilds 
Ostia  as  a  protection  against  the  '^  nation  of  the 
Hagarenes,  hated  by  God,  unspeakable,"  just  as 
clearly  conscious  of  the  gravity  of  the  situation 
as  Urban  II.,  Gregory  IX.,  Pius  II.,  or  Pius  Y. 
If  the  modern  world  has  escaped  the  gloomy 
and  cruel  bondage  of  the  Koran ;  if  •  liberty  and 
not  despotism,  progress  and  not  stagnation,  are 
the  marks  of  our  society;  if  the  spiritual  and 
the  temporal  have  not  been  hopelessly  confused ; 
if  woman  has  maintained  the  dignity  and  the 
large  freedom  to  which  Christianity  has  called 
her ;  if  polygamy,  slavery,  mutual  fanatical 
hatred  and  armed  proselytism,  are  not  rooted  in 
our  midst ;  if  we  enjoy  the  splendid  masterpieces 
of  art  and  the  charms  of  divinest  music;  if  we 


THE  RELIGION  OF  ISLAM.  .133 

have  not  become  the  slaves  of  Bedoiiin  and 
Ottoman — we  owe  it  above  all  to  the  Father  of 
Christendom,  who,  by  whatever  name  he  went,  — 
Gregory,  Urban,  or  Pius,  —  made  it  his  special 
duty  to  crush  whenever  and  wherever  he  could 
the  ambitious  and  stirring  successors  of  the 
prophet. 


CATHOLICISM    IN    THE    MIDDLE   AGES. 

'What  do  we  understand  by  Civilization  ?  It 
is  usually  taken  to  mean  the  refinement  of 
man  in  his  social  capacity.  Whatever  uplifts, 
cleanses^  purifies,  inspires  man  as  a  member  of 
the  common  human  family  is  held  by  all  men  to 
be  civilizing.  The  word,  if  not  the  idea,  comes 
to  us  from  the  masterful  Roman  people.  They 
believed  that  their  civilitas,  or  civilization,  the 
sum  total  and  the  spirit  of  social  progress  attained 
in  their  city  by  their  laws  and  language,  their 
religion  and  philosophy  of  life,  was  unsurpassed, 
was  the  last  and  highest  effort  of  mankind. 

In  this 'they  erred;  and  we  need  no  better 
proof  than  the  remnants  of  their  life  that  have 
come  down  to  us  in  one  way  or  another.  But 
they  erred  in  noble  company,  for  before  them 
the  Egyptian,  the  Assyrian,  and  the  Persian  had 
shared  the  same  conviction,  as  they  have  left  the 
same  historical  proofs  of  their  self-illusion  in 
many  a  great  moniunent,  many  a  proud  inscrip- 
tion. Even  the  Greek,  whose  civilization  is  so 
intimately  related  to  that  of  the  Romans,  and 

134 


CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES.       135 

through  them  to  iis^  was  unable  to  protect  and 
propagate  directly  the  spirit  and  the  institutions 
of  his  own  admirable  refinement.  In  all  purely 
human  work  there  is  a  response  of  death,  a  certain 
futility  and  emptiness,  as  a  reminder  by  Nature 
of  man's  transitory  character  and  functions. 

Nevertheless,  while  the  forms,  the  outer  dress, 
as  it  were,  of  civilization,  change  from  one 
epoch  of  time  to  another,  there  is  forever  com- 
mon to  all  mankind  an  irrepressible  trend,  like  a 
rising  flame  or  a  flowing  current,  that  impels  us  to 
create  and  share  common  interests  and  common 
enjoyments,  that  calls  forth  common  efforts  for 
causes  that  are  common  and  therefore  higher  than 
any  or  all  of  us.  In  the  common  gains  or  attain- 
ments we  bring  to  the  front  the  best  and  noblest 
that  is  in  each  one  of  us.  In  the  common  strug- 
gle we  learn  to  admire  and  love  the  natural 
forces,  gifts,  opportunities,  and  institutions  which 
have  been  the  means  of  creating  what  each 
race,  or  people,  or  epoch  calls  its  civilization. 
So  the  flag  of  one's  fatherland  arouses  the  holiest 
of  natural  passions,  for  it  compresses  into  one 
cry,  as  it  were,  the  whole  life  of  a  great  and 
ancient  people  through  many  stirring  centuries. 
So  the  tattered  colors  of  the  regiment  whip  the 
blood  of  the  soldier  into  a  rapid  flow,  for  they 


136        CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES, 

recall  the  vastness  and  complexity  of  the  com- 
mon efforts  that  culminated  in  the  victories 
whose  inscribed  names  are  soaked  with  the  blood 
of  the  bravest  and  best. 

Civilization  is  indeed  a  constant  strife,  and 
he  alone  comprehends  it  well  who  looks  on  it 
from  the  view-point  of  conflict.  Not  one  genuine 
gain  of  civilization  but  counts  its  martyrs;  not 
one  step  upward  in  the  history  of  mankind  but 
is  taken  amid  the  protests  and  opposition  of 
those  whose  individual  or  particular  interests  are 
assailed,  or  seem  to  be.  Mankind  itself,  even 
collectively,  is  not  exempt  from  the  blunders  and 
follies,  the  errors  and  weaknesses  of  the  indi- 
vidual. A  Socrates  can  sacrifice  to  Esculapius, 
and  a  Montezuma  can  preside  over  hecatombs  of 
human  victims.  It  is  precisely  this  atmosphere 
and  character  of  conflict  that  lend  to  the  period 
we  are  about  to  deal  with  its  greatest  charm. 

I. 

In  the  history  of  mankind,  there  is  no  more 
instructive,  no  more  crucial,  time  than  what  we 
call  the  Middle  Ages.  Then  the  ancient  civiliza- 
tion of  Europe  was  overrun  by  the  barbarism  of 
the  North  and  the  East,  and  owed  its  preservation 
and  resurrection,  not  to  its  own  power  and  fasci- 


CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES.       137 

nation,  not  to  the  pity  or  needs  of  rude  and  fierce 
conquerors,  but  to  the  influence  and  authority  of 
the  CathoHc  Church.  Roughly  speaking,  we 
may  say  that  the  Middle  Ages  are  that  period  of 
one  thousand  years  that  opens  with  the  over- 
throw of  the  imperial  power  of  Rome  in  Central 
and  Southern  Europe  about  the  year  500  a.d. 
and  closes  with  the  discovery  of  America  and  the 
invention  of  printing,  just  before  the  year  1500. 
In  that  time,  there  is,  in  greater  or  lesser  degree, 
one  form  of  government,  the  feudal  system, 
based  on  permanent  warfare,  upheld  by  a  monop- 
oly of  the  land,  and  the  weakness  of  the  central 
authority  in  every  State.  One  race,  the  Teu- 
tonic, imposes  its  will  on  all  the  fair  lands  that 
were  once  the  provinces  of  Rome  —  Spain,  Gaul, 
Britain,  Helvetia,  the  Rhineland,  Italy  herself. 
Throughout  Europe  the  warrior  rules,  and  the 
public  life  is  marked  by  all  the  virtues  and  vices 
of  the  camp  or  burg.  With  few  exceptions,  the 
civil  power  is  held  by  an  aristocracy,  more  or  less 
open  from  below,  more  or  less  restrained  by  king 
or  emperor,  but  always  violent  and  proud.  The 
habits  and  manners  of  daily  life  are  yet  largely 
those  of  the  forest  and  the  marsh  and  the  sea 
whence  the  invaders  came.  It  was  many  a  long 
day  before  the  English  thane  forgot  that  he  was 


138        CATHOLICISM  IN   THE  MIDDLE  AGES. 

the  son  of  Low  Dutch  pirates,  or  the  Norman 
earl  ceased  to  feel  himself  the  descendant  of  men 
who  had  made  a  dozen  kings  to  quake  and 
emperors  to  do  them  homage.  The  Hidalgos  of 
Spain,  the  Ritters  of  Germany,  are  long  conscious 
that  they  hold  their  places  by  reason  of  the  old 
Gothic  and  Sue  vie  or  Alemannic  conquests.  At 
the  basis  of  this  society  there  is  always  the  an- 
tithesis of  might  and  right,  the  strong  and  the 
weak,  the  brutal  and  ignorant  against  the  refined 
and  educated,  the  selfish  and  individual  greed  or 
need  against  the  purposes  and  utilities  of  pro- 
gressive society.  When  we  look  out  over  these 
ten  centuries  of  human  history,  they  come  before 
us  like  the  meeting  of  the  turbulent  sea  with  the 
waters  of  some  majestic  river,  the  Ganges  or  the 
Mississippi.  On  one  side  is  the  contribution  of 
an  orderly  and  regulated  force,  on  the  other 
the  lawless  impact  of  an  elemental  strength. 
The  result  is  eddies  and  currents,  islands  and 
bars,  reefs  and  shoals.  A  new  and  strange  life 
develops  along  this  margin  of  conflict  between 
order  and  anarchy.  All  is  shifting  and  chang- 
ing, and  yet,  beneath  all  the  new  phenomena, 
goes  on  forever  the  original  struggle  between  the 
river  that  personifies  civilization  and  the  sea 
that  personifies  the  utter  absence  of  the  same. 


CATHOLICISM  IN   THE  MIDDLE  AGES.       139 

So  it  was  in  the  civil  and  secular  world  of  the 
Middle  Ages.  There  were  indeed  periods  of 
advancement,  stretches  of  sunshine  in  a  gloomy 
and  troubled  climate,  individuals  and  institu- 
tions of  exceptional  goodness.  If  the  underlying 
barbarism  of  the  civil  life  had  its  vices,  it  had 
also  its  virtues,  that  both  pagan  and  Christian 
have  agreed  in  praising.  It  had  overrun  Europe 
like  a  flood,  but  it  brought  with  it  a  rich  alluvial 
deposit  of  courage  and  ambition,  the  elasticity 
and  ardor  of  youth,  fresh  and  untainted  hearts, 
an  eagerness  to  know  and  to  do,  an  astounding 
energy  that  was  painful  to  the  sybaritic  society 
that  suffered  the  domination  of  barbarism. 

For  an  event  of  so  great  magnitude,  it  is  won- 
derful how  little  we  know  of  the  circumstances 
of  the  fall  of  the  Roman  authority  in  the  West. 
The  civilization  that  up  to  the  end  was  heir  to 
all  the  art  and  philosophy  of  Greece,  all  the 
power  and  majesty  of  Rome,  suffered  ship- 
wreck almost  without  a  historian.  Odds  and 
ends  of  annals  and  chronicles,  stray  remarks 
apropos  of  other  things  —  these  are  all  that  are 
left  to  us  of  those  memorable  decades  of  the 
fifth  century,  when  Rome  saw  her  gates  dese- 
crated by  one  barbarian  horde  after  another. 
Yet  enough  remains   to  show  that  it  was   the 


140        CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES. 

Catholic  Church  which  stood  between  her  and 
utter  extirpation,  so  great  was  the  contempt  and 
hatred  of  Goth  and  Vandal  and  Hun  for  the  city 
that  had  been  long  the  oppressor  of  the  nations. 
Here  a  bishop  turns  away  the  wandering  hordes 
from  his  town,  there  another  encourages  to  vig- 
orous resistance  that  is  successful;  here  a  holy 
virgin  saves  Paris  from  destruction,  there  an 
Italian  bishop  brings  home  a  long  procession  of 
captives.  Everywhere  in  this  dark  century  thai; 
saw  the  old  classic  life  enter  on  its  decline,  the 
Catholic  bishop  appears  as  the  defender  of  the 
municipality  and  the  people  against  every 
oppression.  He  also  possesses  a  moral  authority 
equally  great  with  Roman  and  barbarian. 
Alone  he  is  trusted  by  both  powers,  for  he  is 
the  only  social  force  left  that  is  really  unaffected 
by  the  collapse  of  the  old  world  and  the  arrival 
of  a  new  one.  The  bishop  is  the  ambassador  of 
emperor  and  people,  as  on  that  dread  day  in  the 
middle  of  the  century,  when  Leo  the  Great  went 
out  to  Attila,  on  his  way  to  Rome,  and  persuaded 
the  great  Hun  to  turn  back  with  his  half  million 
savages  and  spare  the  Eternal  City.  As  sorrow 
upon  sorrow  fell  on  the  doomed  cities  and  popu- 
lations, the  civil  power  gave  way  completely,  and 
the  ministers  of  religion  were  compelled  to  take 


CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES.       141 

up  a  work  foreign  to  their  calling,  and  save  such 
wreckage  as  they  might  of  the  administration, 
art,  and  literature  of  their  common  fatherland. 
They  became  the  premiers  of  the  barbarian 
kings,  the  codifiers  of  their  laws,  their  factotums 
in  all  things,  their  intimate  friends  and  counsel- 
lors. There  is  not  a  state  in  Europe,  and  all  of 
them  go  back  to  this  time,  that  does  not  recog- 
nize among  its  real  founders,  the  Catholic  bishop 
before  whom  the  original  conquerors  bowed. 
There  is  Clovis  before  Remigius,  Theodoric  be- 
fore Epiphanius  and  Cassiodorus,  the  Burgundi-an 
king  before  Avitus,  and  so  many  others  that  it  is 
needless  to  detail  their  names  or  deeds.  I  recall 
the  facts  only  to  show  that  the  very  bases  of  our 
Christian  society,  the  very  foundations  of  medise- 
val  Christendom,  were  laid  by  a  long  line  of 
brave  and  prophetic  bishops  and  priests,  who 
saw  at  once  in  the  barbarian  conquerors  future 
children  of  the  Church  and  apostles  of  Chris- 
tianity. On  the  very  threshold,  therefore,  of  the 
Middle  Ages,  the  Catholic  Church  appears  as 
the  truest  friend  both  of  the  old  order  that  was 
going  out,  and  the  new  one  that  was  being  ush- 
ered in  amid  the  unspeakable  horrors  that  always 
accompany  the  downfall  of  an  ancient  and  highly 
wrought  civilization. 


142        CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES. 

II. 

All  civilization  begins  with  the  soil.  What 
have  been  the  relations  of  the  Catholic  Church 
to  the  soil '  throughout  the  Middle  Ages  ?  Ev- 
erywhere man  is  a  child  of  the  soil.  Mysteri- 
ously he  issues  from  it.  He  lives  on  it  and  by 
it.  He  goes  down  one  day  to  his  appointed 
place  in  the  mighty  bosom  of  Mother  Earth. 
No  matter  how  complicated  society  may  become, 
it  is  impossible  that  conditions  should  arise  in 
which  man  can  be  otherwise  than  dependent 
upon  the  earth  that  God  gave  him  for  a  suffi- 
cient and  suitable  sojourning  place.  Institu- 
tions, laws,  customs,  and  manners  that  sin 
against  the  God-given  relations  of  man  and  the 
soil  bear  in  them  always  the  sure  promise  of 
death.  Half,  nay,  nearly  all  the  great  events 
of  history  are  directly  traceable  to  the  struggles 
for  the  soil,  whether  from  within  or  without 
the  State.  The  plebeians  and  the  patricians 
of  Rome  create  immortal  principles  of  private 
law  by  reason  of  this,  very  conflict ;  the  Roman 
State  itself  goes  on  the  rocks  because  it 
neglected  good  lessons  learned  in  its  infancy. 
The  contests  of  warlike  shepherds  in  China  pre- 
cipitate  masses   of  barbarian   Goths  and  Huns 


CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES.       143 

and  Vandals  on  the  Roman  Empire  and  dis- 
locate the  social  fabric  that  the  genius  and  for- 
tune and  experience  of  a  thousand  years  had 
built  up.  For  another  thousand  years  of  feudal 
life  the  land  is  the  only  source  and  sign  of 
wealth.  The  Middle  Ages,  economically,  are 
that  period  of  Western  history  when  a  few 
reaped  the  products  of  the  earth,  when  the 
many  bore  the  burden  of  the  sowing,  but  at 
the  reaping  went  empty-handed  away. 

The  Catholic  Church  is  too  much  the  Mother 
Church  of  the  poor  and  lowly  and  humble,  too 
much  the  Spouse  of  the  carpenter's  Son,  that 
great  Friend  of  all  who  labor  and  are  heavy 
burdened,  not  to  hear  forever  in  her  heart  the 
tender  yet  puissant  cry,  ^'  I  have  pity  on  the 
multitude."  The  life  of  the  soil  is  really  in 
the  labor  that  makes  it  bear  fruit.  Until  man 
appeared  the  world  was  indeed  a  bright  garden, 
but  growing  wild  and  untrimmed,  all  its  powers 
sleeping  as  though  under  a  spell  within  its 
bosom.  This  labor  the  Catholic  Church  has 
always  sanctified  and  held  up  as  a  necessary 
and  a  blessed  thing.  Her  Founder  was  ac- 
counted the  son  of  a  common  laboring  man, 
Himself  a  toiler  at  the  bench.  Her  first  mis- 
sionaries  were   working-men  —  fishermen,   pub- 


144        CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES. 

licans,  a  physician,  a  tent-maker.  She,  first 
and  alone,  uplifted  on  her  banner  the  symbols 
of  labor  and  declared  them  worthy  and  holy. 
All  her  early  documents  bear  the  praise  of 
labor.  A^l  her  earliest  legislation  enforces 
labor  as  a  duty  for  all.  But  the  duty  of  labor 
brings  with  it  a  corresponding  right  to  the  fruit 
and  reward  of  labor,  and  here  she  came  at  once 
into  contact  with  the  existing  conditions  of 
society. 

I  shall  say  nothing  of  the  relations  of  the 
Church  to  the  soil  under  the  pagan  Roman 
Empire.  Those  three  centuries  were  not  un- 
like the  three  decades  of  the  hidden  life  of 
Jesus,  an  epoch  of  divine  education  for  her 
public  life.  But  as  soon  as  she  is  free  we  find 
her  concerned  about  the  treatment  of  the  work- 
ing-man in  the  great  ranches  or  villas  of  the 
Roman  nobles.  No  more  underground  prisons, 
no  more  stamping  with  hot  irons  the  face  that 
has  been  cleansed  in  the  baptism  of  Christ,  no 
more  compelling  of  girls  to  go  on  the  obscene 
vaudeville  stage  of  antiquity,  no  more  maim- 
ing or  abusing  of  the  slave.  She  opens  vast 
refuges  in  every  city  for  .  the  poor  and  homeless 
driven  off  their  estates  by  the  growing  monopoly 
in   land.     Every  church  door   is  a  distributing 


CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES.       145 

place  for  the  bread  of  the  ensuing  week.  One 
quarter  of  the  funds  of  every  church  goes  to  the 
relief  of  her  poor.  Before  the  empire  fell  one 
of  her  priests  arose  and  wrote  an  immortal  page 
that  stands  forever  to  show  that  i^  was  the 
abuse  of  taxation  that  brought  it  low  and  not 
the  ris^ht  hand  of  the  barbarian,  which  in  more 
humane  days  she  had  always  beaten  down. 
Economically,  the  old  Roman  Empire  was 
always  pagan,  even  in  the  hands  of  Christian 
men.  Its  principles  and  methods  of  adminis- 
tration never  changed.  It  was  an  omnipotent, 
omniscient  bureaucracy,  that  learned  nothing 
and  forgot  nothing,  until  one  grim  day  the 
Cross  went  down  before  the  Crescent  on  the 
dome  of  St.  Sophia  and  the  Leather  Apron  was 
hoisted  above  the  waters  of  the  Golden  Horn. 
But  in  all  those  trying  ages,  every  bishop's 
house  was  a  court  of  appeal  for  the  overbur- 
dened peasant,  and  the  despotic  lord  or  cunning 
middleman  was  very  likely  to  hear  in  a  sum- 
mary way  from  Constantinople,  or  from  the  bar- 
barian kings  turned  Christian.  A  bishop  sat  on 
the  bench  with  the  judges.  He  visited  the 
prisons,  his  church  had  the  right  of  asylum  for 
poor  debtors  or  oppressed  men  generally.  He 
was  recognized  by  the  State  as  a  natural-born 


146        CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES. 

spokesman  of  the  people  in  city  and  country. 
He  was  the  last  link  between  the  old  Roman 
society  and  the  new  world  arising  on  its  ruins. 
In  his  person,  for  he  Avas  nearly  always  the 
ablest  man  in  the  city,  were  gathered  all  the 
best  traditions  of  law  and  procedure,  of  tradi- 
tions and  good  customs.  In  the  wreckage  of 
the  State  he  had  saved,  as  it  were,  the  papers, 
the  family  records,  the  registers,  and  the  like, 
that  in  an  hour  of  peace  would  enable  order  to 
be  brought  out  of  chaos  by  younger  hands. 
Let  any  modern  economist  or  lawyer  read  the 
letters  of  Gregory  the  Great  and  he  will  be  as- 
tonished to  see  how  tiiis  great  Roman  nobleman, 
who  traced  his  ancestry  back  to  the  Caesars,  and 
who  had  been  himself  governor  of  Rome  at  the 
end  of  the  sixth  century,  treats  the  relations  of 
the  peasant  and  the  soil.  Without  interfering 
with  the  theories  of  the  day  that  did  not  con- 
cern him,  he  upholds  in  a  long  series  of  docu- 
ments the  just  rights  of  his  tenants  on  the  four 
hundred  farms  that  the  Roman  Church  then 
owned  in  Sicily.  He  chides  his  agents  for 
rackrenting  and  orders  the  excess  to  be  given 
back.  He  provides  for  an  adjustment  of  losses 
between  the  Church  and  the  tenants.  He 
writes   to   the   emperor    about    false    measure- 


CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES.        147 

ments  and  exactions.  Were  all  the  noble  prin- 
ciples he  promulgates  to  be  put  into  modern 
English,  it  would  be  seen  that  this  ancient 
Bishop  of  Rome  had  asserted  thirteen  hundred 
years  ago,  at  the  beginning  of  our  modern  world, 
the  principles  that  are  yet  basic  in  any  society  of 
men  that  pretends  to  stand  and  work  well,  with- 
out convulsions  or  revolutions.  Now,  Gregory 
was  only  the  head  of  the  system;  he  was  not 
the  inventor  of  those  principles.  He  recalls 
them  to  his  Italian  bishops  as  being  the  purest 
spirit  of  the  gospel.  If  we  want  to  know  what 
they  are  we  have  only  to  read  the  magnificent 
encyclical  of  Leo  XIII.  on  the  condition  of  the 
working-men.  In  it  these  principles  are  clothed 
in  language  scarcely  different  from  that  of  his 
ancient  predecessor. 

These  ancient  bishops  of  the  decadent  empire 
and  the  incipient  States  of  Europe  compelled 
the  great  land-owners  to  build  numerous  little 
chapels  on  their  estates.  Thus  arose  around 
the  homes  of  religion  the  little  villages  of 
France  and  Italy  and  Germany.  It  is  no  mere 
chance  that  causes  the  Catholic  Church  spire  in 
these  lands  to  rise  from  ten  thousand  hamlets. 
The  hamlets  grew  up  beneath  its  beneficent 
shadow.      In  those  little  chapels  were  told  to 


148        CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE-  AGES. 

the  noble  and  serf  the  truths  of  the  gospel  that 
gradually  broke  down  the  mediaeval  servage. 
Before  those  little  rural  altars  the  gospel  was 
first  divided  into  sections  as  we  read  it  to-day 
on  Sundays.  Then  again  yearly  the  bishops  in 
synod  taught  the  parish  priests  how  to  com- 
ment on  it,  how  to  apply  it  without  fear  of 
cringing.  To-day  it  seems  a  small  task  to  speak 
the  truth  before  all,  but  one  day,  long  ago,  it 
required  an  abnormal  moral  courage  for  the  son 
of  a  peasant  to  stand  up  before  the  owner  of 
the  great  warlike  castle  on  yonder  peak  and  bid 
him  cease  from  vexing,  bid  him  live  with  one 
wife,  bid  him  stop  the  rioting  and  dissipation 
by  which  he  spent  in  one  night  the  earnings  of 
the  estate  for  a  year.  Behind  that  poor  semi- 
illiterate  hind,  dressed  in  the  garments  of  a 
priest,  there  stood  the  bishop,  and  behind  the 
bishop  rose  the  powerful  figure  of  the  Church 
incarnate  in  the  supreme  Bishop  at  Rome. 
Countless  times  the  thunderbolt  flew  from 
thence,  straight  and  true,  that  laid  low  the 
awful  pride  and  the  satanic  tenacity  of  some 
great  Frank  or  some  fierce  Lombard  lord.  It 
was  indeed  the  Catholic  bishop  who  saved  the 
peasants  of  Europe  from  the  fifth  to  the  eighth 
century.     For  three  hundred  years  he  was  the 


CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES.       149 

last  court  of  appeal ;  he  was  the  gospel  walking 
among  men ;  he  was  the  only  mternational 
force  with  power  to  execute  its  decrees.  His 
cathedral  was  always  in  the  heart  of  the  city, 
and  in  its  great  doorway  he  sat  regularly  to 
judge  justly  and  without  price.  His  priests 
were  usually  the  lawyers  and  notaries  of  the 
people.  And  on  certain  old  Romanesque  or 
Byzantine  portals  you  may  yet  see  in  marble 
that  lovely  scene  of  the  episcopal  weekly  tri- 
bunal. Around  his  house  and  in  front  of  his 
church  stretched  the  public  square.  He  was 
the  protection,  therefore,  of  the  little  tradesman, 
the  peasant,  the  pedler  with  his  wares.  To 
him  came,  the  pilgrim,  the  stranger,  the  wander- 
ing penitent.  To  him  the  ambassadors  going 
east  and  west,  the  king  on  his  annual  round, 
the  great  nobles  charged  with  the  administra- 
tion of  justice  or  the  collection  of  revenue. 
And  when,  after  Pentecost,  for  example,  or  at 
Michaelmas,  he  gathered  in  annual  .synod  his 
clergy  from  the  villages  and  ranches  and  villas 
and  castles,  and  stood  at  his  throne,  mitre  on 
head  and  staff  in  hand,  it  did  seem  to  all  the 
assembled  multitude,  and  it  was  in  its  own  way 
true,  that  the  Sun  of  Justice  was  shining  among 
men,  that  every  wrong  would  be  redressed  and 


150        CATHOLICISM  IN   THE  MIDDLE  AGES. 

every  sorrow  smoothed  over,  so  far  as  it  lay  in 
the  public  power  to  do  so.  It  is  not  for  nothing 
that  the  Catholic  episcopate  won  its  incredible 
authority  over  the  people.  Such  historical  phe- 
nomena have  alwaj^s  an  adequate  cause.  Right 
here  it  was  three  long  centuries  of  intelligent 
and  sympathetic  protection  of  the  people,  at  a 
time  when  the  feudal  law  was  a-forming  and 
the  benefit  of  Eoman  law  was  in  abeyance. 

All  this  time  the  old  conditions  of  the  Roman 
provinces  of  Europe  were  being  deeply  modified. 
Industry  had  been  extinguished  and  commerce 
paralyzed  by  the  first  inroads  of  the  barbarians. 
The  east  fell  away  from  the  west,  whose  jealous 
kings  tolerated  little  intercourse  with  Constanti- 
nople. The  loveliest  lands  of  France  and  Italy 
went  without  culture,  and  soon  forests  grew 
where  palaces  had  lifted  their  proud  fronts. 
The  wild  beasts  wandered  among  the  baths  and 
porticoes  and  temples  of  the  ancients,  and  the 
very  names  of  towns  that  were  once  echoed 
beyond  the  Ganges  were  forgotten.  Then  arose 
another  mighty  force  of  the  Catholic  Church, 
the  monks  of  St.  Benedict.  Long  while  only 
laymen,  subject  to  the  local  bishop  and  con- 
trolled by  him,  they  grew  very  numerous  in 
time.     Their  rule  was  an  admirable  thing  for 


CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES.        151 

the  social  needs  of  the  day.  It  inculcated 
equally  the  labor  of  the  field  and  the  labor  of 
the  brain,  and  so  during  this  period  and  long 
after,  all  Europe  was  overrun  by  the  children 
of  that  good  man  whose  mortal  remains  repose 
above  the  rushing  Anio  amid  the  sublime  sce- 
nery of  Subiaco.  The  Koman  Bishop  took  them 
under,  his  especial  protection,  and  together  they 
formed  a  religious  power  that  worked  for  good 
in  every  direction  without  any  thought  of  self- 
advancement  or  any  conflict  of  an  unavoidable 
character.  They  chose  usually  for  a  home  the 
waste  and  desert  spots  of  Europe.  Soon  the 
forest  was  again  thinned  out  and  crops  were 
again  planted.  Priest  and  brother,  the  edu- 
cated man  and  the  common  laborer,  went  down 
into  the  field  together,  and  worked  all  day  in 
silence  side  by  side.  They  built  the  ditches, 
thej  bridged  the  streams,  they  laid  the  neces- 
sary roads ;  they  increased  the  area  of  arable 
land  in  every  decade,  and  thereby  drove  out  the 
noxious  wild  beasts ;  draining  and  irrigation  on 
a  large  scale  were  carried  on  by  them.  Walls 
and  fences  and  granges  arose  on  every  little 
estate  that  they  had  created  out  of  nothing. 
The  peasant,  half  barbarian,  learned  from  them 
the   traditions   of   old   Roman    agriculture,   for 


152        CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES. 

these  men  were  often  the  best  born  and  best 
educated  men  of  the  time.  They  leased  to  the 
peasant  at  a  ridiculous  rent  and  in  real  perma- 
nency the  soil  that  they  had  themselves  created. 
His  children  found  employment  in  their  kitchens 
and  barns.  One  day  the  parents  would  lead 
their  brightest  boy  to  the  abbey  altar,  where  his 
little  fist  would  be  wound  up  in  the  altar  cloth 
as  a  sign  that  they  gave  him  to  St.  Benedict. 
Thus  he  would  enter  the  order  as  a  novice,  to 
die  My  Lord  Abbot  of  ten  thousand  acres,  or 
Archbishop  of  Cologne,  or  perhaps  Pope  of 
Rome.  There  is  one  true  source  of  modern 
democracy  —  that  ever  open  door  of  the  Church 
by  which  throughout  the  Middle  Ages  the  high- 
est honor  and  emolument  were  ever  open  to  the 
lowliest  and  poorest. 

In  those  old  days  there  were  few  or  no  cities. 
With  the  exception,  perhaps,  of  Northern  Italy, 
the  old  municipalities  of  the  great  Roman  prov- 
inces, with  all  their  traditions  of  order  and  jus- 
tice, had  been  submerged.  The  collective  life 
was  everywhere  a  tender  growth  nourished  by 
the  Church.  Its  beginnings  were  often  after 
the  following  fashion  :  — 

Over  against  the  castle  or  burg  of  the  local 
lord  she  set  the  little  church  or  the  small  mon- 


CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES.       153 

astery.  These,  too,  became  proprietors,  and  on 
their  estates  the  peasantry  could  see  other  prin- 
ciples of  government  than  those  of  the  ra- 
pacious feudal  lord.  It  was  an  old  saying  in 
the  Middle  Ages  that  it  was  a  good  thing  to 
dwell  beneath  the  crozier.  As  a  fact,  the  green- 
est fields  and  the  richest  slopes,  the  best  vine- 
yards, the  best  kept  forests  and  fisheries,  were 
those  of  bishop  or  abbot.  Here  religion  forbade 
waste  and  riot,  and  education  brought  to  their 
cultivation  much  knowledge  handed  down  from 
the  ancients.  Tliough  without  wives  and  chil- 
dren, these  great  ecclesiastical  lords,  always 
elective,  held  a  kind  of  a  dead-hand  over  their 
estates.  Thus  were  secured  perpetuity  of  ten- 
ure, continuous  culture  of  the  fields,  equality  of 
rents,  new  tracts  of  reclaimed  lands,  mildness  of 
administration,  and  a  minimum  of  expense  in 
the  conduct  of  vast  properties.  The  classical 
studies  broadened  their  views  and  humanized 
bishop  and  priest  and  monk.  The  meditation 
on  the  gospel,  the  example  of  countless  holy 
monks  and  hermits,  the  daily  service  of  God  at 
the  majestic  altars  of  some  basilica  or  Roman- 
esque church  softened  their  hearts.  Those  men 
and  women  whom  the  bishop  or  the  abbot 
daily  blessed,  who  brought  in  their  woes  with 


154        CATHOLICISM  IN   THE  MIDDLE  AGES. 

their  tithes,  were  his  tenants,  perhaps  for  many 
generations  ;  thus  there  arose  a  certain  fraternal 
intimacy  between  the  most  powerful  men  in  the 
State  and  the  humblest  serf  who  delved  on  the 
hillside  or  tended  sheep  along  the  uplands. 
Whole  sections  of  Europe  were  in  this  way 
reclaimed,  or  for  the  first  time  cultivated. 
Prussia,  Southern  Germany,  most  of  the  Rhine- 
land,  the  greater  part  of  Switzerland,  great  tracts 
of  Southern  Italy  and  Sicily,  of  Norway  and 
Sweden,  are  the  immediate  creation  of  these 
churchmen.  If  we  would  have  some  idea  of 
the  duties  of  a  mediaeval  bishop  we  should  have 
to  compare  him  with  the  president  of  some  great 
railroad  and  double  that  with  many  of  the 
duties  of  the  mayor  of  a  city  and  add  thereto 
the  responsibilities  of  teacher  and  preacher. 

III. 

The  States  of  the  Middle  Ages  were  almost 
purely  agricultural.  Yet  even  in  such  States 
problems  of  production  and  distribution  arose. 
The  population  increased,  wants  multiplied,  war 
and  travel  and  awakening  knowledge  roused 
curiosity  and  desire.  The  bishop's  house  first, 
and  then  the  monastery,  was  the  great  nucleus 


CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES.       155 

of  social  life  in  the  Middle  Ages.  Around  the 
cathedral  that  the  bishop  built,  perhaps  in  some 
lonely  spot,  if  he  was  a  missionary,  or  on  the 
site  of  the  old  public  buildings,  if  he  dwelt  in  a 
once  Roman  town,  gathered  all  kinds  of  work- 
men—  tillers  of  the  field,  the  weavers  of  cloth, 
the  builders  of  houses,  the  decorators  of  the  cathe- 
dral, the  workers  in  linen  and  embroidery.  Here 
were  to  be  found  the  stone  mason,  the  blacksmith, 
the  joiner,  the  carpenter,  the  gold  and  silversmith, 
every  artificer,  indeed,  for  the  little  community. 
We  see  at  once  that  all  the  germs  of  a  city  life 
are  here.  Indeed,  this  is  the  origin  of  a  multi- 
tude of  European  cities.  The  day  will  come 
when  fierce  conflict  will  arise  between  the 
bishops  and  the  serfs  emancipated  and  enriched, 
the  latter  claiming  corporate  recognition  *and  a 
municipal  constitution,  freedom  from  imposts, 
and  the  like ;  the  former  pointing  to  the  fact 
that  all  they  had  was  a  benefit  of  the  Church. 
There  are  some  kinds  of  justice  so  complicated 
that  time  alone  can  grant  them.  -And  so  in  the 
end  the  bishop  lost  his  control  and  the  cities  won 
legal  recognition.  Similarly,  the  monasteries 
were  centres  of  consumption  and  distribution. 
The  revival  of  the  cloth  trade  in  England  in  the 
twelfth  century  owes  very  much  to  the  con  sump- 


156        CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES, 

tion  of  black  and  gray  cloth  by  tlie  monks  and 

the  nuns,  and^  indeed,  was  long  in  their  hands. 

The  preservation  and  protection  of  the  culture 

of  the  grape,  the  viniculture  of  the  Middle  Ages, 

was  almost  entirely  dependent  on  the  immense 

multitude  of  churches,  chapels,  and  altars.     The 

minor  arts,  like  delicate  work  in  silver  and  gold, 

in  ivory  and  wood,  embroideries  and  tapestries, 

were  kept   alive   by  the  constant  need  of  new 

church  furniture. 

In  those  days  men  lived  much  alone  in  castles 

or  widely  scattered  hamlets.      The  annual  fair 

with  its  products  from  all  parts  of  the  world 

was  held  under  church  auspices,  about  the  mon- 
* 

astery  or  in  front  of  the  cathedral.  The  wares 
of  east  and  west  were  there  hawked  about ;  the 
traveller  and  the  pilgrim  hurried  thither;  the 
legal  needs  of  the  peasants  —  wills,  marriages, 
contracts  —  were  attended  to ;  distant  relatives 
met  one  another;  all  the  refining  duties  of  hos- 
pitality were  exercised.  And  above  it  all  arose 
the  holy  and  benignant  figure  of  Mother  Church. 
The  fair  was  opened  with  all  the  solemnities  of 
the  liturgy,  and  the  fair  itself  was  known  as 
'•  The  Mass  "  of  St.  Michael,  e.g.,  or  of  Our  Lady. 
Indeed,  the  great  book-fair  of  Leipzig  is  still 
called  "The  Mass  of  the  Books.'' 


CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES.       157 

Thus,  throughout  those  remote  times  both  the 
cathedral  and  monastery  preserved  the  germs  of 
civil  life,  that  without  them  w^ould  have  utterly 
perished,  given  the  general  ignorance  and  bar- 
barism of  the  lay  life.  It  is  to  them  that  we 
owe  directly  the  preservation  of  all  the  social 
arts  and  professions.  How  many  reflect  when 
they  enter  an  apothecary  shop  that  it  is  th-e  out- 
come of  the  "infirmary"  of  the  monastery  where 
the  simples  and  drugs  were  kept  that  were 
needed  for  the  use  of  the  inmates  or  the  serfs, 
and  later  on  the  peasants  of  the  abbey.  The 
monks  copied  out  the  old  medical  manuscripts, 
treasured  up  and  applied  much  homely  domestic 
traditions  of  a  better  day,  and,  to  say  the  least, 
were  as  useful  in  handing  down  Greek  medical 
practice  as  the  Arabs  were  in  transmitting  its 
theory.  Every  monastery  had  its  brother  de- 
voted to  the  sick,  whose  practical  skill,  was  often 
very  great.  While  in  Italy,  both  north  and 
south,  there  surely  lingered  no  little  scientific 
medicine  of  the  past,  in  the  west  of  Europe  the 
monks  were,  to  a  very  great  extent,  the  gener- 
ous physicians  of  the  rude  and  uncultured  popu- 
lations ;  memories  of  those  days  still  hang  about 
the  cloisters  of  Italy,  and  those  who  have  lived 
there  long  remember  how  often  a  rude  dentistry 


158         CATHOLICISM  IN   THE  MIDDLE  AGES. 

is  gratuitously  practised  by  §ome  good  Capuchin, 
how  often  the  fever-stricken  boy  of  the  Cam- 
pagna  throws  himself  at  the  entrance  of  the  first 
cloister,  how  the  women  of  the  hamlet  get 
from  the  nuns  of  the  neighborhood  the  simple 
remedies  they  need.  When  we  pass  by  some 
brilliantly  lighted  window  and  see  exposed  Char- 
treuse, Benedictine,  and  the  like,  we  may  re- 
member that  these  sweetened  liqueurs  are 
antique  recipes  of.  mediaeval  monks,  originally 
meant  for  uses  of  health.  Convents  still  exist 
out  of  the  Middle  Ages,  like  the  Certosa  at 
Florence  and  the  Carmelites  of  the  same  old 
town,  that  were,  and  perhaps  are  yet,  practically 
the  dispensaries  of  the  city.  Indeed,  one  might 
add  a  page  to  the  famous  lecture  of  Wendell 
Phillips  on  the  "Lost  Arts,"  were  he  to  recount 
the  benefits  conferred  on  the  medical  sciences  by 
the  devotion  of  the  mediaeval  clergy  to  the  plain 
people.  Only  the  other  day,  in  reading  Ian 
MacLaren's  touching  stories  in  the  "  Bonnie 
Brier  Bush,"  I  was  led  to  reflect  how  much 
silent  heroism  of  the  same  kind  was  practised  in 
the  mediaeval  times,  when  a  village  doctor  was 
unheard  of,  and  the  only  available  skill  lay 
down  in  the  valley  or  up  on  the  tall  crag  where 
the  men  of  God  spent  their  innocent  and  benefi- 


CATHOLICISM  IN  TUE  MIDDLE  AGES.        159 

cent  days.  Thus,  whatever  path  of  history  or 
facts  we  tread  backward  for  thirteen  or  four- 
teen centuries,  we  shall  always  find  that  the  only 
stanch  and  loyal  friend  of  the  poor  man  was 
the  Catholic  priest ;  that  all  the  useful  and  hidis- 
pensable  arts  and  professions  of  social  life  were 
gathered  up  by  him  out  of  the  great  wreck  of 
Graeco-Roman  life,  or  created  anew  amid  the 
turbulence  and  lawlessness  of  barbarism ;  that 
law  and  medicine  found  in  him  a  humble  but  a 
useful  bridge  by  which  they  were  rescued  from 
the  flood  of  oblivion  and  ruin ;  that  the  homely 
utilities  of  the  soil,  of  food  and  drink,  of  clothing, 
the  more  complicated  processes  of  production  and 
distribution,  were  very  largely  dependent  on  him 
in  all  parts  of  Europe.  At  the  top  notch  of  his 
estate  he  was  bisliop  or  abbot,  at  the  bottom  poor 
parish  priest  or  monk,  —  but  ever  he  was  a  friend 
of  the  people,  and  he  earned  their  gratitude  by 
an  anonymous  devotion,  a  nameless  self-sacrifice, 
that  covered  one  thousand  years  of  the  infancy 
of  our  modern  states  and  was  really  then'  period 
of  gestation  and  nursing. 

IV. 

While  the  Church  was  developing  among  the 
youthful  nations  of   Europe   the  notion  of   the 


160         CATHOLICISM  IN   THE  MIDDLE  AGES. 

common  weal,  the  higher  good  of  the  common- 
wealth, she  was  also  creating  another  entirely 
new  institution,  the  Christian  Law  of  Nations, 
or  what  is  known  to-day  as  International  Law. 
The  old  Roman  law  did  indeed  recognize,  grad- 
ually, a  certain  universal  province  of  general 
rights,  but  it  was  only  in  the  domain  of  private 
law,  of  the  relations  between  one  individual  and 
another,  such  as  contracts  and  obligations,  wills 
and  judgments,  and  the  like  ;  of  a  public  law 
applicable  to  all  peoples,  higher  than  all  and 
eminently  fair  to  all,  it  had  not  the  slightest 
inkling,  and  has  left  us  no  trace.  Rome 
acknowledged  no  equal  before  the  bar  of  man- 
kind. The  only  civilization  that  ever  withstood 
her,  the  old  Persian,  she  pursued  and  harried  to 
the  death.  Perhaps  in  that  dread  hour,  when  the 
grim  fanatic  Arab  arose  in  his  stirrup  above 
the  prostrate  bodies  of  Roman  and  Persian,  it 
dawned  upon  both  that  they  would  better  have 
arbitrated  their  pretensions,  but  it  was  too  late. 
On  the  dial  of  time  no  power  can  turn  back  the 
'solemn  finger  of  history.  It  was  otherwise  with 
the  Catholic  Church  in  the  West.  She  was  the 
mother  and  nurse  of  a  whole  brood  of  young 
and  ardent  peoples,  full  of  high  and  vague 
impulses,  naturally  jealous  of  one  another,  but 


CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES.       161 

also  mutually  respectful  of  the  great  holy  power 
that  they  felt  was  lifting  them  steadily  toward 
the  light.  In  their  infancy  their  first  mission- 
aries had  been  sent  by  Rome,  and  bore  aloft 
their  authority  from  the  central  see  of  Christen- 
dom. In  time  one  agent  of  Rome,  after  another 
appeared  to  allay  the  fires  of  domestic  hatred 
and  revenge,  to  put  bounds  to  ambition,  to  com- 
pel the  execution  of  treaties,  to  protect  the 
injured  who  were  without  redress.  Often  these 
men  were  of  any  nationality ;  whatever  shrewd 
head  offered  itself,  whatever  experience  of  man- 
kind was  at  hand,  Rome  accepted.  Every  king- 
dom and  great  family  in  Europe  received  and 
welcomed  these  men.  Every  decade  of  the 
Middle  Ages  is  filled  with  their  good  deeds. 
They  represent  a  central  authority,  entirely 
moral  and  resting  on  personal  conviction  of  its 
sanctity.  They  appeal  to  the  common  law  of 
the  gospel  and  the  general  customs  of  Christian 
life  and  experience.  They  brought  to  their 
tasks  a  suavity  of  manner  and  a  persistency  of 
method  that  the  lay  world  admired  instinctively. 
The  opposition  they  could  not  break  down  they 
turned.  Peace  was  their  object  as  war  was  the 
purpose  of  the  feudal  world.  In  time  they 
created   an   unwritten  code  that   governed   the 


162        CATHOLICISM  11^  THE  MIDDLE  AGES. 

world,  the  life-giving  centre  of  which  was  the 
Person  of  Jesus  Christ  in  His  gospel  enlighten- 
ing and  soliciting  mankind  to  follow  Him,  the 
Prince  of  Peace,  to  beat  the  sword  into  the 
ploughshare.  At  a  later  date,  Hugo  Grotius, 
Puffendorf,  and  other  learned  lawyers  organized 
in  detail  this  mediaeval  institution;  but  it  existed 
in  practice  long  before  them,  and  had  long 
borrowed  all  its  certainty  of  action  from  the 
Catholic  Church.  Only  forty  years  ago,  on  the 
eve  of  the  Vatican  Council,  David  Urquhart 
wrote  his  famous  "  Letter  of  a  Protestant  to 
Pius  IX.,"  begging  him  to  declare  again  and 
formulate  the  old  Pontifical  Law  of  Nations, 
that  nothing  else  would  arrest  the  bloody,  in- 
human practices  of  the  slave  trade,  the  opium 
trade,  and  all  the  other  infamous  arts  by  which 
the  strong  white  races  were  waging  a  hellish 
war  against  the  weaker  colored  ones.  Only 
very  lately  there  met  at  The  Hague  in  inter- 
national conference  the  representatives  of  nearly 
all  the  civil  powers  of  the  earth  to  promote  uni- 
versal peace,  but  the  representative  of  Leo  XIII., 
though  invited  by  Russia  and  ardently  desired 
by  the  Queen  of  Holland,  was  not  allowed  to 
enter.  What  good  can  ever  come  of  such  pro- 
ceedings ?      They  are   fantastic   and   visionary, 


CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES.       163 

to  say  the  least.  It  is  the  play  of  Hamlet  with 
the  noble  Dane  left  out.  A  universal  peace  is 
a  mockery  so  long  as  religious  convictions  do 
not  dominate  the  ancient  and  natural  impulses 
of  selfishness,  public  and  private,  the  cruel 
leonine  policy  of  the  world  from  Sargon  to 
Napoleon. 

V. 

It  is  a  commonplace  saying  that  there  is  no 
social  progress  possible  without  the  recognition 
of  authority  in  the  State,  and  a  respectful  sub- 
mission to  its  due  and  licit  exercise.  But  of 
what  avail  is  all  this  if  there  be  no  habitual  » 
discipline  in  the  minds  and  hearts  of  men  ?  It 
is  the  creation  of  this  docile  temper,  this 
trained  submission  to  just  laio  and  custom,  that  is 
one  of  the  great  glories  of  the  Catholic  Church. 
The  modern  world,  in  as  far  as  it  possesses  this 
benefit,  inherits  it  from  her.  A  century  of  wild 
and  incoherent  efforts  to  base  social  obedience 
on  any  other  lines  than  those  she  preaches  has 
resulted  in  anarchy,  or  a  practical  appeal  to  her 
to  help  control  the  masses  from  whose  hearts 
the  balancing  ideas  of  God,  future  retribution, 
sin,  immortality,  were  driven  by  every  ingenious 
means  that  could  be  devised.     Neither  Plato  nor 


164        CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES. 

Aristotle,  neither  Zeno  nor  Cicero  nor  Seneca, 
were  able  to  establish  a  code  of  principles  that 
would  command  the  willing  and  affectionate 
acceptance  of  all  men  amid  all  the  changing 
circumstances  of  life.  Only  Jesus  Christ  could 
do  that.  Hence  His  gospel  is  not  only  the 
noblest  revelation  of  God  to  man,  but  also  a 
political  document  of  the  highest  rank,  as  the 
centuries  to  come  will  most  certainly  demon- 
strate. Throughout  the  Middle  Ages  the 
Catholic  Church  was  the  sole  recognized  inter- 
preter of  this  gospel.  Her  decisions  were  law. 
Her  comments  were  final.  She  did  not  call  on 
men  to  obey  a  human  will ;  it  was  the  divine 
figure  and  will  of  Jesus  that  she  held  up  before 
men.  It  was  not  by  preaching  herself  or  her 
achievements  that  she  compelled  the  unwilling 
submission  of  the  most  violent  men  the  world 
has  seen,  men  in  whose  blood  the  barbarian 
strain  was  still  hot  and  arrogant.  Let  any  one 
read  the  great  "  Papal  Letters  "  of  the  Middle 
Ages,  the  letters  of  Gregory  I.  to  King  Ethelbert, 
of  Gregory  VII.  to  Henry  IV.  of  Germany,  of 
Alexander  III.  to  Henry  11.  of  England,  of 
Innocent  III.  to  all  the  potentates  of  Europe, 
and  the  magnificent  letters  of  the  nonagenarian 
Gregory  IX.  to  Frederick  II.,  and  he  will  be  as- 


CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES.       165 

tounded  at  the  richness  and  abundance  of  pure 
gospel  teaching,  at  the  cogency  of  the  texts,  at 
the  vigor  and  apostolic  candor  of  their  application. 
Judges  and  prophets,  bishops  and  apostles, — these 
men  speak  as  man  never  spoke  before.  And 
when  their  utterances  were  heralded  in  a  few 
weeks  all  over  Europe  by  the  swiftest  processes 
then  known  to  man,  the  innocent  looked  up 
and  rejoiced,  the  oppressed  breathed  easier, 
those  who  hungered  and  thirsted  for  justice  had 
their  desire  fulfilled.  The  tyrant  shook  on  his 
throne  and  all  the  ministers  of  religion  felt  that 
an  invincible  force  had  been  infused  into  them. 
The  moral  battle  had  been  won  ;  let  gross  might 
do  its  worst.  Kings  of  every  nation  quailed  before 
those  dread  spiritual  arrows ;  minor  potentates 
stifled  their  evil  passions  for  very  fear  of  Rome ; 
the  unholy  and  impure  let  go  the  estates  that  they 
had  robbed,  either  from  the  weak  or  from  the 
Church ;  the  usurer  lifted  his  hand  from  the 
throat  of  his  victim ;  the  orphans'  rights  were 
vindicated  and  the  widows'  portion  restituted. 
The  holy  law  of  monogamous  marriage,  of 
one  man  to  one  woman,  was  successfully  de- 
fended ;  kingdoms  were  risked,  and  one  day 
lost,  for  the  sake  of  a  principle.  To  all  the 
sacredness  of  life  was  declared  again  and  again 


166        CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES. 

— ''  Thou  shalt  not  kill " — neither  thy  neighbor 
in  unjust  violence,  nor  thyself  as  God's  own,  nor 
the  child  in  the  womb.  In  a  century  of  savage 
anarchy  she  declared  the  famous  Truce  of  God 
that  practically  prevented  warfare  for  more  than 
half  the  year.  Her  altars  were  always  places  of 
refuge  against  hasty  and  unjust  vengeance.  She 
forbade  any  one  to  mount  the  steps  of  those 
altars  whose  hand  was  stained  with  the  blood  of 
his  fellow-man.  In  that  long  night  of  storm  and 
conflict  she  was  everywhere  the  White  Angel  of 
Peace,  everywhere,  like  the  Valkyries,  a  presence 
hoverins:  over  the  multitudinous  scene  of  battle, 
but  not  like  them  an  urger  of  death  —  rather 
the  vicarious  voice  of  God,  His  gentle  spouse, 
bidding  the  hell  of  angry  selfishness  subside  — 
appealing,  in  season  and  out  of  season,  to  the 
conscience  of  mankind,  its  natural  probity, 
above  all  to  the  love  and  the  will  of  the 
'Crucified    One. 

And  so  her  own  law  grew,  —  men  called  it  in 
time  the  Canon  Law,  —  i.e .  the  law  made  up  of 
the  rules  and  regulations  established  by  the 
authority  of  the  Church.  She  disdained  no 
human  help  and  she  loaned  her  strength  to 
many  a  humane  and  good  measure.  But  the 
substance  of  it  all  is  the  gospel ;  the  spirit  of  it 


CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES.       167 

is  one  of  peace,  of  friendly  composition  and 
arbitration  where  possible  ;  its  very  punishments 
have  —  what  was  unknown  to  the  laws  of  man- 
kind before  her  —  a  medicinal  or  healing  char- 
acter. Hitherto  men  were  punished  as  a  revenge 
of  society  for  transgressing  its  collective  will. 
Now  men  are  punished  that  they  may  enter  into 
themselves  and  be  enlightened,  and  seeing,  be 
made  to  walk  as  straight  as  they  see ;  that  is, 
be  corrected. 

Think  of  this  legislation  gradually  spreading 
over  all  Europe  from  Sicily  to  Iceland,  accepted 
as  a  quasi-divine  code  by  all,  and  one  sees  at 
once  what  a  stern  but  enduring  discipline  was 
imposed  on  men's  hearts.  01)edience  was  hard, 
but  it  was  useful.  It  was  humiliating,  but  it 
cleansed  and  comforted.  It  was  painful,  but  it 
made  men  Godlike,  since  it  was  exercised  to 
imitate  and  please  Him  who  had  first  given  the 
most  splendid  example  of  obedience.  The 
Lombard  Gastaldo  at  Friuli,  and  the  Duke  at 
Spoleto,  the  Frank  Comes  at  Tours  or  Limoges, 
the  Exarch  at  Kavenna,  the  Herzog  in  the 
Marches,  all  looked  on  and  wondered  and 
trembled  at  the  popular  submission  to  one  weak 
man's  will.  For  the  first  time  moral  dignity 
prevailed,  and  the  authoritative  sentence  of  the 


168        CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES, 

successor  of  the  Fisherman  had  more  weight 
than  the  laws  of  a  dozen  kings.  This  was  a 
great  step,  for  it  hfted  the  administration  of 
justice  out  of  and  beyond  the  sphere  of  the  per- 
sonal and  temporary  into  a  high  and  serene 
atmosphere.  It  made  the  face  of  the  judge  to 
shine  with  a  light  reflected  from  heaven.  It 
gave  a  kind  of  immortality  to  every  utterance. 
It  was  like  a  new  stringer  laid  on  the  fair  and 
holy  walls  of  the  temple  of  justice.  The  de- 
cisions of  one  pope  were  sacred  to  his  successor, 
and  the  wicked  had  the  assurance  that  there 
was  no  reopening  of  their  career  before  a  tri- 
bunal that  had  judged  them  by  the  law  of  God. 
Such  an  authority,  sacred  and  intangible  by 
reason  of  long  and  useful  services  to  European 
society,  could  deal  with  all  civil  authorities  on 
the  highest  level.  It  had  nothing  to  gain  from 
flattery  and  nothing  to  fear  from  their  ill-will. 
It  had  known  the  gloom  of  the  Catacombs,  the 
turbulent  and  selfish  fondness  of  the  first  Chris- 
tian emperors,  the  whims  and  vagaries  of  the 
barbarous  nations  turned  Christian.  It  is  no 
exaggeration  to  say  that  the  civil  authority  of 
the  Middle  Ages  is  the  disciple  of  the  Church. 
It  learned  from  her  the  nature,  scope,  and  spirit 
of   authority.      It   got   through   her   the   most 


CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES.        169 

moniTmental  expression  of  that  authority,  the 
immortal  law  of  Rome.  It  got  from  her  a 
higher  and  more  useful  concept  of  punishment. 
It  learned  from  her  a  hundred  uses  of  authority 
that  were  unknown  before.  It  learned  how  to 
temper  severity  with  mildness ;  how  to  restrain 
the  ardor  of  justice  by  equity  and  prudence; 
how  to  insist  on  the  written  evidence  and  to 
preserve  the  records ;  how  to  surround  justice 
with  the  due  solemnity,  and  to  grant  to  all  con- 
cerned those  proper  delays  that  are  needed  to 
prevent  the  triumph  of  wrong  through  error, 
ignorance,  or  chance.  Many  of  these  things  are, 
indeed,  the  legacies  of  the  Roman  law  of  proce- 
dure. But  we  must  remember  that  centuries 
before  the  Roman  law  was  taught  in  the  schools 
of  Europe  it  was  the  law  that  the  Church  and 
her  clergy  governed  by,  and  by  which  they  gov- 
erned themselves  in  their  synods  and  trials.  Its 
procedure  was  made  her  own  from  the  begin- 
ning and  through  her  entered  the  chanceries 
and  justice-halls  of  all  Europe. 

Whatever  was  the  actual  belief  of  Shake- 
speare, his  genius  was  certainly  Catholic  in  the 
largest  sense.  He  has  always  the  true  philo- 
sophic note  when  he  touches  her  institutions.  And 
so  his  bishops  are  the  embodiment  of  law  and 


170        CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES. 

order.  The  principles  of  justice,  the  equity  of 
war  and  peace,  the  nice  points  that  affect  the 
king's  conscience,  are  decided  by  them.  In 
"Henry  V.,"  the  king  invokes  the  judgment  of 
the  bishops  as  to  the  moral  character  of  his  con- 
templated expedition  against  France. 

"  My  learned  lord,  we  pray  thee  to  proceed, 
And  justly  and  religiously  unfold 
Why  the  law  Salique  that  they  have  in  France 
Or  should  or  should  not  bar  us  in  our  claim. 

't'  ^  ^  tI^  ^  ^  ^ 

And  we  will  hear,  note  and  believe  in  heart 
That  what  you  speak  is  in  your  conscience  washed 
As  pure  as  sin  in  baptism."  —  Act  L,  Scene  1. 

The  whole  trend  of  public  opinion  in  the 
Middle  Ages  was  so  overwhelmingly  in  this 
sense  that  it  would  have  seemed  an  anachro- 
nism to  have  made  the  bishops  of  England  as- 
sume an  attitude  different  from  what  they  had 
always  held  in  ages  gone  by.  So,  too,  in  the 
Holy  Roman  Empire  of  the  German  Nation 
that  theoretically  dominated  the  political  situ- 
ation in  Europe,  the  chancellor  of  the  empire 
was  always  the  Archbishop  of  Trier,  and  as  such 
was  the  emperor's  spiritual  adviser  in  all  that 
pertained  to  justice  or  equity  in  public  affairs  or 
enterprises.  In  other  words,  the  great  States  of 
Europe  grew  from  infancy  to  manhood  under 


CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES,       171 

the  solemn  and  public  tutelage  of  the  Catholic 
Church.  What  is  good  and  lasting  in  their 
government  they  owe  to  her;  what  is  faulty 
and  imperfect  to  their  own  inordinate  ambi- 
tions. 

The  greatest  public  act  that  could  fall  to  a 
churchman  to  perform  in  the  Middle  Ages  was 
the  anointing  and  coronation  of  a  king.  It  is 
among  the  solemn  acts  reserved  to  a  bishop,  and 
as  such  is  found  in  the  Eoman  Pontifical.  In 
one  of  the  great  prayers  said  over  the  new  king, 
the  Catholic  Church  has  herself  given  the  char- 
acter, measure,  and  spirit  of  the  civil  duties  of  a 
regent  of  the  people.  It  is  almost  a  summary 
of  her  own  career  throughout  the  shifting  and 
difficult  circumstances  of  mediseval  life. 


VI. 

Such  a  power  as  the  Catholic  Church,  deeply 
rooted  in  history  and  in  the  hearts  of  all  the 
nations  of  Europe,  had  necessarily  a  more  than 
ordinary  influence  on  the  social  life  of  the  people 
and  the  institutions  in  which  it  manifested  itself. 
I  cannot  do  more  than  touch  summarily  on  some 
important  points.  Those  institutions  that  affect 
woman  are  fundamental  in  every  society.     With 


172        CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES. 

an  instinct  both  true  and  keen,  the  Catholic 
Church,  at  the  break-up  of  the  old  Greek  and 
Roman  world,  set  herself  to  protect  the  weaker 
sex.  It  was  now  a  world  in  which  the  example 
of  the  strong  and  the  rich  was  all  contagious. 
Bravely  and  persistently  she  resisted  the  at- 
tempts of  the  aristocracy  from  emperor  and 
king  downward  to  introduce  polygamy.  As 
the  great  nobles  grew  independent  they  grew 
restless  under  the  restraint  imposed  upon 
ordinary  men  and  asserted  for  themselves 
immunity  from  the  law  of  the  gospel.  But 
they  found  in  the  popes  and  the  Catholic  clergy, 
generally,  a  wall  of  brass  that  they  essayed 
in  vain  to  overthrow.  The  history  of  her 
marriage  legislation,  of  her  dealing  with  di- 
vorce, is  one  of  the  proudest  pages  in  the  life 
of  the  mediaeval  Church.  In  every  nation  of 
Europe  the  battle  had  to  be  fought  over  and 
over  again,  and  always  with  the  same  result, 
"Thou  shalt  not."  We  have  yet,  for  example, 
the  admirable  letters  written  by  Innocent  III.  to 
Ingelberge,  the  repudiated  wife  of  Philip  Augus- 
tus. They  furnish  a  sufl&cient  commentary  on 
the  long  catalogue  of  royal  matrimonial  causes 
that  were  ever  before  the  Roman  court  through 
the  Middle  Ages.     The   impediments   that   she 


CATHOLICISM  IN   THE  MIDDLE  AGES.       173 

placed  to  certain  marriages  had  each,  its  own 
justification  in  history,  in  the  relations  with  the 
civil  power,  or  in  that  sure  instinct  of  what  was 
for  the  welfare  of  the  people  that  I  have  already 
referred  to.  Thus  the  impediment  of  close  rela- 
tionship acted  very  efficaciously  in  preventing 
the  accumulation  of  land  and  power  in  the 
hands  of  a  few  families,  not  to  speak  of  other 
useful  consequences.  It  must  be  remembered 
that,  as  to  those  impediments  that  she  created 
by  positive  enactment  or  by  hallowing  custom, 
she  must  be  judged  from  the  view-point  of  the 
times  and  the  circumstances.  Apropos  of  the 
transmission  of  wealth,  had  the  mediaeval  clergy 
been  a  married  clergy,  the  wealth  of  Europe 
would  have  passed  to  their  children,  their  great 
benefices  would  have  been  hereditary,  and  in- 
stead of  an  humble  class  of  men  rising  by  their 
own  efforts  to  the  highest  rank,  we  should  have 
seen  the  great  prizes  of  the  ecclesiastical  life 
handed  down  by  the  laws  of  human  affection, 
with  the  invariable  decay  of  every  ecclesiastical 
virtue  and  the  spiritual  ruin  of  the  European 
population. 

If  the  Church  built  high  the  barrier  about 
woman  in  some  directions,  in  others  she  left  her 
a  freedom  unknown  to  the  ancients  and  opened 


174        CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES, 

to  her  a  career  of  extraordinary  utility.  No  one 
might  coerce  her  into  marriage;  the  cloister 
was  ever  open.  Only  those  who  know  how 
uncertain  the  perpetual  turbulence  of  the  Middle 
Ages  made  the  condition  of  woman,  how  sad 
the  life  of  the  widow,  the  orphan,  the  desolate 
maiden,  can  appreciate  the  benefit  that  these 
holy  refuges  were  to  women  in  this  stormy  pe- 
riod. Woman  governed  freely  such  institutions, 
and  when  they  arose  to  prominence,  her  posi- 
tion was  only  less  enviable  than  that  of  a  queen. 
As  abbess  of  a  great  mediaeval  monastery,  she 
disposed  of  many  and  vast  estates  and  revenues, 
and  enjoyed  in  her  own  person  the  highest  dis- 
tinctions of  Church  and  State.  In  marriage  the 
freedom  of  her  consent  was  especially  safe- 
guarded ;  her  position  and  rights  were  the  same 
as  those  of  the  husband,  and  if  she  was  inferior 
in  what  pertained  to  the  disposition  of  property, 
it  must  not  be  forgotten  that  mediaeval  life  was 
in  many  respects  different  from  our  own,  that 
man  alone  could  bear  the  burdens  of  life  as  it 
was  then  lived.  The  bishop's  court  in  the 
Middle  Ages  was  another  benefit  to  woman. 
Usually  it  was  the  court  for  wills  and  testa- 
ments, and  well  it  was,  for  the  bishop  was  nat- 
urally the  father  of  the  helpless  and  the  lowly. 


CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES.       175 

Of  two  other  conditions  of  life  I  shall  say  but 
one  word  —  the  poor  and  the  slave.  So  long  as 
a  monastery  existed^  no  poor  man  could  go 
hungry,  and  the  duty  of  giving  to  the  hungry 
and  the  poor  was  looked  on  everywhere  as  the 
holiest  of  all.  War,  pestilence,  famine,  worked 
their  ravages,  it  is  true,  but  in  ordinary  life  the 
hungry  and  starving  poor  were  rare  in  mediasval 
Europe.  Nor  was  this  accomplished  by  statute 
law,  nor  with  painful  humiliation,  but  in  love, 
for  Jesus'  sake,  because  He,  too,  had  been  a  poor 
man;  because  the  poor  man  bore  the  likeness 
and  image  of  the  Creator  even  as  his  richer 
brother ;  because,  after  all,  the'  rich  ma,n  was 
only  the  steward  of  his  wealth  and  not  its  abso- 
lute owner.  As  for  slavery,  the  Church  did  not 
formally  abolish  it,  but  it  was  incompatible  with 
her  doctrine  and  life.  It  gradually  lapsed  into 
servage;  the  serf  was  attached  to  the  soil,  a 
great  blessing  for  him.  He  was  often  the 
Church's  own  man,  and  so  he  gradually  merged 
into  the  free  peasant,  very  largely  through  the 
agency  of  local  churches,  only  too  anxious  to 
preserve  on  their  lands  the  same  families,  with 
their  knowledge  of  the  soil  and  their  loyalty  to 
the  owners. 

As   to  money   itself   and  its  functions,   the 


176        CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES. 

mediaeval  Church  knew  not  our  wonderful  devel- 
opment of  industry  and  commerce.  It  was  an 
agricultural  world,  and  money  did  not  seem  pro- 
ductive in  itself.  Usury  was  the  supremest 
hardship  for  the  poor,  as  it  is  yet  felt  in  purely 
agricultural  lands  like  Russia  and  India.  It  was 
forbidden  under  the  severest  penalties,  and  out 
of  sympathy  with  the  multitudes  that  would 
otherwise  have  suffered  incredibly  in  a  time 
when  their  little  bit  of  land,  their  crops,  and  their 
implements  were  all  that  nine  out  of  ten  poor 
men  could  ever  hope  to  own.  As  to  the  uses  of 
wealth  itself,  the  ideas  of  the  Middle  Ages  were 
thoroughly  humane,  even  grandiose.  Surplus 
wealth  was  not  man's,  but  God's.  The  owner 
was  the  steward,  the  administrator,  and  he  was 
bound,  after  providing  for  the  suitable  support 
of  his  own,  according  to  their  estate  in  life,  to 
bestow  it  in  other  good  works.  Moreover, 
thereby  he  could  atone  while  yet  alive  for  his 
shortcomings ;  he  could  further  the  relief  of  the 
poor,  the  weak,  and  friendless;  he  could  be  a 
helper  of  God  in  the  government  of  this  world ; 
he  could  root  out  the  ugliest  of  all  social  cancers, 
the  cancer  of  ignorance;  he  could  elevate  to 
God's  glory  a  noble  temple ;  he  could  provide 
the  sweet  boon  of  education  for  those  who  would 


CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES,       177 

never  know  its  uses  had  not  some  generous  soul 
been  moved  by  such  ideas.  So  common  were 
these  views  that  it  was  seldom  a  man  or  woman 
died  without  making  some  provision  for  the 
poor,  for  religion,  for  education.  These  moneys 
in  turn  flowed  back  into  the  community,  and  a 
perpetual  exchange  of  good  offices  went  on 
between  the  individual  and  the  institution  his 
generosity  either  created  or  sustained.  So  much 
money  was  given  to  education  in  Germany  just 
before  the  Reformation  that  Martin  Luther  used 
to  say  it  was  almost  impossible  for  a  child  to  go 
ignorant  under  the  papacy.  So  education,  archi- 
tecture, the  fine  arts,  the  social  needs,  were  for- 
ever provided  for  by  the  overflowing  treasury  of 
popular  gift,  and  the  Catholic  people  in  turn 
escaped  the  danger  of  idealizing  their  wealth 
and  hoarding  it  too  jealously  against  a  future 
that  they  had  no  means  of  controlling.  Thus, 
for  instance,  arose  countless  grammar  schools  in 
Scotland  and  England  that  were  so  numerous 
before  the  Reformation  that  the  poorest  boy 
could  get  -a  classical  education  in  his  own  town 
and  thereby  enter  the  clergy.  In  Germany, 
France,  and  Italy,  a  similar  education  was  to  be 
had  with  almost  the  same  ease,  and  that  meant 
in  those  days  the  open  door  to  office,  preferment, 


178        CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES, 

and  wealth.  Countless  associations  were  en- 
dowed for  the  care  of  the  poor,  the  burial  of  the 
deadj  the  dowering  of  poor  girls,  and  the  relief 
of  every  form  of  misery.  If  men  made  money 
largely,  they  spent  it  generously  and  intelligently. 
There  was,  perhaps,  no  time  in  the  history  of 
mankind,  not  even  our  own  last  few  years,  when 
men  devoted  to  public  uses  so  large  a  portion  of 
their  wealth.  Not  the  least  cause  of  it  was  tlie 
Catholic  doctrine  of  the  utility  of  good  works 
for  the  welfare  of  the  soul.  Old  churches  were 
repaired  j  new  ones  were  built  all  over  Europe. 
Indeed,  both  Dr.  Janssen  and  Dom  Gasquet 
have  shown,  not  only  that  the  generosity  of  the 
fifteenth  century  was  as  great  proportionately  as 
that  of  any  other  age  of  the  Church,  but  that  it 
was  extremely  popular  in  kind,  i.e.  that  down 
to  the  eve  of  the  Reformation  the  people  gener- 
ally accepted  the  mediasval  view  of  the  uses  of 
money,  notably  for  the  common  good.  Shake- 
speare, who  is  so  often  the  perfect  echo  of 
mediaeval  thought  and  temper,  puts  into  the 
mouth  of  the  good  Griffith  as  the  best  praise  of 
the  fallen  Woolsey  that  he  had  built  two  noble 
schools  for  the  education  of  youth,  —  a  grammar 
school  and  a  university  college  :  — 


CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES.        179 

Ever  witness  for  him 
Those  twins  of  learning  that  he  reared  in  you 
Ipswich  and  Oxford !  one  of  which  fell  with  him, 
Unwilling  to  outlive  the  good  he  did  it ; 
The  other  unfinished  yet  so  famous, 
So  excellent  in  art,  and  still  so  rising 
That  Christendom  shall  ever  speak  his  virtue." 

—  "  Henry  VIII.,"  Act  IV.,  Scene  1. 

VII. 

In  the  early  Middle  Ages  the  sense  of  the 
common  loeal  was  very  imperfect.  The  Wan- 
dering Nations  had  developed  the  kingship 
through  long  and  permanent  conflicts,  first 
among  themselves,  and  then  with  Rome.  But 
we  see  on  all  sides  among  them  the  rudest  and 
most  original  independence.  Here  the  great 
unity  and  centralization  of  the  Church  were 
as  models  to  the  State,  that  little  by  little 
arose  to  a  similar  concept.  We  have  only  to 
follow,  for  instance,  the  history  of  France  from 
the  days  of  Gregory  of  Tours  to  the  foundation 
of  the  Capetian  monarchy,  to  see  how  the 
churchmen  contributed  to  the  unification  and 
solidarity  of  that  great  State.  So,  too,  in  Eng- 
land, the  separate  little  kingdoms  are  brought 
ever  closer  toecether  under  the  influence  of 
Canterbury,  its  bishops,  its  synods,  and  the 
general    unity   of    ecclesiastical    life    that   was 


180        CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES. 

there  constantly  visible  since  the  time  of  St. 
Augustine.  The  mixed  synods  and  councils 
of  the  early  Middle  Ages  in  England,  Germany, 
France,  Spain,  were  also  a  training  school  for 
the  lay  governors  of  society.  They  learned 
from  the  better  educated  ecclesiastics  how  to 
conduct  popular  assemblies  with  something 
more  than  the  rude  simplicity  of  their  Ger- 
man forefathers  by  the  Rhine  or  the  Elbe. 
They  learned,  as  we  have  seen,  the  use  of 
written  records,  the  patient  sustaining  of  con- 
tradiction, the  yielding  to  the  majority,  the 
power  of  eloquence  and  learning.  But  they 
learned  something  holier  still  —  to  look  on 
public  life  from  a  moral  point  of  view,  to 
consider  their  offices  as  a  trust  from  God,  to 
become  familiar  with  the  idea  that  all  power 
was  from  God  and  not  from  their  great  spears 
and  their  strong  arms.  Little  by  little  genera- 
tions of  rulers  were  formed  who  owned  en- 
lightened consciences  and  listened  to  them, 
instead  of  the  wild  passions  that  were  once 
their  sole  guides.  Far  deeper  and  more  im- 
mediate than  the  influences  of  Rome  and  Greece 
on  the  modern  state  are  the  Christian  influences. 
These  are  original  and  organic,  the  former 
academic    and    secondary.     Later,    indeed,   the 


CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES.       181 

common  missionary  enterprises,  the  opposition 
to  Islam,  the  Crusades,  boimd  all  Christendom 
together  in  links  of  common  sacrifice  and  ideals 
that  could  nevermore  be  forgotten. 

I  have  already  called  attention  to  the  signal 
services  rendered  by  the  Church  in  all  that  per- 
tains to  the  administration  of  justice,  the  corner- 
stone of  human  society.  In  the  preservation 
of  the  Roman  procedure,  the  new  views  of  the 
nature  and  uses  of  punishment  as  a  ^'medici- 
nalis  operatio,"  in  the  obstacle  that  the  right 
of  asylum  set  against  unjust  vindictive  haste, 
in  the  introduction  of  written  evidence,  she 
saved  some  admirable  old  elements  and  added 
some  new  ones  to  the  civil  life  of  European 
peoples. 

T7ie  sanctity  of  oaths  was  insisted  on  by  her, 
and  the  utmost  horror  of  perjury  inculcated.  In 
the  great  mediaBval  veneration  for  the  relics  of 
the  saints  and  martyrs  and  confessors  she  found 
a  fresh  means  of  compelling  veracity  and  obedi- 
ence on  the  part  of  the  wicked  and  tyrannical. 
Many  a  wild  baron  or  marauding  noble  cowered 
when  he  was  asked  to  swear  or  promise  by  the 
relics  of  St.  Cuthbert  or  St.  Columbanus,  St. 
Genevieve  or  St.  Martin,  and  gave  back  ill-gotten 
gains  that  a  king  could  not  have  taken  from  him. 


182         CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES. 

VIII. 

If  we  would  understand  well  the  Middle  Ages, 
we  must  ever  keep  in  view  that  in  those  times 
public  life  was  dominated  by  two  great  functional 
ideas  —  the  sense  of  jpersonality  and  the  sense 
of  responsibility.  Throughout  those  centuries,  it 
was  the  universal  persuasion  that  the  final  end 
of  society  was  the  perfection  of  each  individual 
soul,  or  rather,  its  individual  salvation.  Not  the 
comforts  of  life,  nor  an  increasing  refinement  and 
complexity  of  earthly  pleasures,  not  the  scouring 
of  earth  and  sea  to  minister  to  one  hour's  en- 
joyment, were  the  ideals  of  the  best  men  and 
women  of  those  times.  Neither  did  they  seek  in 
the  organic  development  of  the  collective  unit, 
the  earthly  society,  their  last  and  sufficient  end. 
To  them  it  seemed  that  human  society  was  organ- 
ized, not  as  an  end  in  itself,  but  as  a  means  to 
enable  men  to  know,  love,  and  serve  the  Master 
on  this  earth  and  be  happy  with  Him  in  the  next. 
Whatever  furthered  these  views  of  life  was  good, 
and  all  things  were  bad  or  indifferent  in  the 
measure  that  they  fell  away  from  or  were  useless 
for  this  end.  This  is  why  the  great  men  of  the 
Middle  Ages  are  not  its  warriors,  not  its  legis- 
lators, not  even  its  great  priests  and  bishops,  but 


CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES.       183 

its  saints.  In  a  closer  personal  union  with  God 
men  found  the  highest  uses  and  meanings  of  life. 
It  was  a  temperament  essentially  spiritual,  mys- 
tic, that  forever  m^ged  men  and  w^omen  to  neg- 
lect, even  despise,  what  was  temporary  or  earthly, 
to  aspire  to  a  world  beyond  the  low  horizon  of 
threescore-ten  and  the  grave.  Holiness,  a  god- 
like purity  of  mind  and  heart,  thorough  detach- 
ment from  the  mortal  and  attachment  to  the 
immortal  and  the  divine,  was  the  keynote  of 
this  thousand  years. 

During  this  time  it  is  in  saintly  men  like 
Patrick,  Columbanus,  Benedict,  Boniface,  Nor- 
bert,  Bernard,  Thomas  of  Aquino,  Dominic,  and 
Francis  of  Assisi ;  in  saintly  w^omen  like  Bridget, 
Radegunda,  Cunegonda,  Elizabeth,  Catharine  of 
Sienna,  that  we  must  look  for  the  fine  flower  of 
Christian  growth.  Since  the  Renaissance,  with 
its  reassertion  of  the  basic  principles  of  pagan- 
ism, it  has  been  ever  more  fashionable  to  tax  the 
Middle  Ages  with  an  impossible  mysticism,  with 
an  unjust  contempt  for  the  beauty  and  comfort 
of  the  human  body,  with  a  false  view  of  man's 
relations  to  the  earth  on  which  he  lives  and  sub- 
sists, and  the  society  to  which  he  necessarily 
belongs.  It  is  not  my  purpose  just  now  to  de- 
fend the  medioeval  view,  other  than  to  say  that 


184        CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES. 

they  read  the  gospel  simply  and  candidly,  and 
took  this  meaning  from  the  teachings  of  Jesus  : 
that  they  were  to  seek  first  the  kingdom  of  God 
and  the  justice  thereof ;  that  they  were  to  imi- 
tate the  earthly  life  of  Jesus  Christ;  that  His 
precepts  and  counsels  were  preferable  to  all  sug- 
gestions of  nature  or  experience ;  that  He  came 
on  earth  to  reveal  a  new  and  higher  life,  in  which 
men  should  be  as  free  of  the  flesh  and  its  limitations 
and  perversions  as  God's  grace  could  make  them. 
They  read  in  the  gospel  the  praise  and  example 
of  virginity,  the  assurance  that  the  figure  of 
this  world  passes  away  like  stubble  in  a  furnace, 
that  for  every  idle  word  an  account  should  be 
rendered,  that  the  duties  of  religion  and  of  char- 
ity, the  devotion  of  self  for  others,  were  obliga- 
tory on  those  who  would  be  perfect  Christians. 
They  were  not  always  skilled  logicians,  at  least 
not  until  Aristotle  got  a  chair  in  the  Christian 
schools,  and  they  lived  more  by  the  heart  than 
by  the  manual  of  the  statesman  or  the  formulas 
of  the  chemist.  Therefore,  to  be  brief,  the  Mid- 
dle Ages  are  more  a  period  of  noble  personalities 
than  of  popularized  science,  a  •  time  of  strong, 
trenchant  individualism,  when  each  man  and 
each  woman  leave  a  mark  on  the  life  about 
them.     There  are  those  who  believe  that  there 


CATHOLICISM  IN   THE  MIDDLE  AGES.       185 

is  more  magnetism,  more  genuine  inspiration,  in 
such  a  world  and  life  than  in  a  period  of  golden 
but  general  elevation,  when  all  is  mediocre  by 
the  mere  fact  that  no  one  rises  much  above  the 
general  level.  Just  so,  there  are  those  who  be- 
lieve that  the  rude  hard  life  of  the  early  history 
of  our  country  developed  more  superior  character 
than  the  cosmopolitan  perfection  we  now  enjoy ; 
that  the  strenuous  days  of  the  pioneers  brought 
out  more  virtue  than  the  finished  municipal  or- 
ganism of  the  present ;  that  the  true  use  of  his- 
tory consists  in  the  great  characters  it  reveals 
and  uplifts ;  that  one  view  of  the  solitary  white 
peaks  of  the  Rockies  is  worth  a  week's  journey 
across  the  fat  plains  of  the  Red  River  or  Manitoba. 
Just  because  the  view  of  life  popular  in  the 
Middle  Ages  pivoted  on  personality,  it  was 
replete  to  the  saturation  point  with  a  seiise  of 
responsibility.  How  this  affected  the  relations 
of  man  with  God  I  have  just  indicated.  It  was 
the  true  source  of  sanctity,  and  its  prevalence  is 
shown  by  the  great  multitude  of  holy  men  and 
women  who  meet  us  on  every  page  of  medieval 
history  and  in  every  stage  of  its  evolution. 
In  man's  dealings  with  society,  it  affected  pro- 
foundly his  concept  of  public  office.  According 
to  Christian  teaching  all  power  comes  from  God 


186        CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES. 

and  is  held  for  the  benefit  of  one's  fellow-mortals. 
It  is  not  a  personal  inheritance,  a  thing  trans- 
missible or  to  be  disposed  of  by  private  will. 
Power  over  others  is  vicarious,  the  act  of  an 
agent,  and  as  such  its  use  is  to  be  accounted  for. 
The  Church  had  not  to  go  far  to  impress  that 
idea  on  the  clergy.  It  was  brought  out  in  letters 
of  gold  in  the  pastoral  epistles  of  St.  Paul,  who 
only  develops  the  idea  set  forth  in  the  gospel.  It 
was  otherwise  with  the  civil  power.  The  lucky 
soldier  who  rose  to  wear  the  imperial  purple 
had  no  education  save  that  of  the  camp.  The 
fierce  Frank  or  Burgundian  noble  who  had 
waded  through  blood  to  the  high  seat  of  Mero- 
vingian kingship  thought  only  to  enjoy  the  fruit 
of  his  courage  and  good  fortune.  But  they  met 
a  priest  at  the  foot  of  the  throne  who  warned 
them  that  the  power  was  not  theirs,  but  a  trust 
from  God  ;  they  heard  a  voice  from  the  altar  on 
holydays  depicting  the  true  kingship,  that  of 
David,  of  Solomon,  of  Constantine,  of  Grratian. 
They  met  at  the  council-table  venerable  bishops 
and  abbots  who  discussed  all  methods  from  a 
view-point  of  divine  revelation  —  notably  of 
Christian  history  and  the  spirit  of  Jesus  Christ. 
There  was  anger  enough  at  this  perpetual  school- 
ing, wild  outbursts  of   passion  that  they  could 


CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES.       187 

have  no  peace  with  these  obstinate  priests,  fierce 
excesses  of  cruelty  and  periods  of  reaction.  But 
the  Catholic  clergy  succeeded  in  stilling  the 
furnaces  of  passion  that  were  the  barbarian  royal 
hearts,  and  in  creating  a  public  opinion  in  favor 
of  an  ideal  Christian  ruler.  And  when  once  a 
great  ruler  like  Charlemagne  had  risen  to  incar- 
nate so  many  Christian  public  virtues  of  a  master 
of  men,  his  memory  was  held  in  benediction  by 
all,  and  his  shadow  fell  across  all  the  centuries 
to  come,  blotting  out  the  irregular  and  bloody 
past,  and  forecasting  the  great  royal  saints  of  a 
later  day  —  a  Henry  of  Germany,  an  Elizabeth 
af  Thuringia,  an  Edward  of  England,  a  Stephen 
of  Hungary,  a  Louis  of  France,  a  Wenceslaus  of 
Bohemia.  In  time,  this  practical  education  of 
mediaeval  rulers  became  academic,  and  we  have 
a  long  catalogue  of  "instructions"  for  kings, 
"warnings"  for  kings,  beginning  with  the  golden 
booklet  of  the  deacon  Agapetus  to  his  master 
the  great  Emperor  Justinian,  and  coming  down 
over  seven  hundred  years  to  the  fine  treatise 
attributed  to  St.  Thomas  Aquinas,  "  On  the 
Government  of  Princes."  You  will  see  little 
reference  to  such  in  the  ordinary  histories  of 
pedagogy.  Yet  they  have  had  profound  in- 
fluence in  forming  royal  youth  at  a  time  when 


188        CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES, 

the  happiness  of  peoples  depended  much  on  the 
personality  of  their  rulers.  Public  office  was 
therefore  a  quasi-priestly  thing  in  the  Middle 
Ages,  a  trust,  a  deposit,  and  the  proper  adminis- 
tration of  it  a  knightly  thing,  something  to 
affect  the  conscience  almost  like  the  honor  of 
the  soldier  or  the  good  name  of  woman. 

No  doubt  there  was  plenty  of  human  weak- 
ness, plenty  of  hideous  contradiction  of  those 
ideals.  But  the  ideals  themselves  were  held 
up  and  even  realized.  Thereby  no  European 
people  could  fall  into  utter  servitude  morally 
and  mentally  like  the  subjects  of  imperial  Rome 
or  the  millions  of  bureaucratic  China.  In  the 
resplendent  gospel  of  Jesus  Christ,  in  the  self- 
identical  and  constant  teachings  of  His  Church, 
in  the  great  and  shining  examples  of  His  saints, 
there  was  a  source  of  self-judgment  and  self- 
uplifting  that  could  never  be  quite  dried  up,  and 
which,  from  time  to  time,  the  Angel  of  Reform 
came  down  and  touched  with  salutary  effect. 

IX. 

There  is  a  story  told  of  Ataulf,  the  general  of 
the  Goths  and  the  successor  of  Alaric,  the  con- 
queror of  Rome,  at  the  beginning  of  this  period, 
that  he  had  long  meditated  the  extinction  of  the 


CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES.        189 

whole  Roman  power,  and  the  substitution  of 
Gothic  life  and  habits  throughout  Europe.  He 
was  held  back  from  this  act  by  the  reflection  that 
without  the  laws  of  Rome  he  could  not  think 
of  governing  the  world.  Barbarian  as  he  was, 
he  had  seized  the  first  principle  of  good  govern- 
ment, the  creation  of  laws  at  once  stable  and 
equitable,  tried  by  experience  and  adapted  to  the 
circumstances  of  the  age  and  civilization.  In 
the  course  of  a  thousand  years  Rome  had  built 
up  such  a  system  —  the  Roman  laio.  Tradi- 
tion, experience,  equity,  philosophy,  religion, 
had  contributed  each  its  share,  and  the  emi- 
nently practical  and  sober  genius  of  the  Roman 
people  had  welded  the  whole  into  a  fabric  that 
yet  stands,  the  admiration  of  all  thinking  men. 
When  the  Middle  Ages  opened,  with  the 
military  cunning  and  strength  of  Rome  departed 
and  a  dozen  barbarian  nations  camped  trium- 
phantly over  the  Europe  that  Rome  had  subdued 
and  civilized,  this  law  of  Rome,  the  basis  of  her 
great  Peace  and  Order,  the  "  Pax  Romana  "  that 
she  had  established,  was  in  the  greatest  danger 
of  perishing.  Indeed,  it  would  have  perished, 
save  for  the  Catholic  Church.  By  saving  the 
law  of  Rome  as  her  own  law,  she  saved  to  all 
future  society  the  idea  and  example,  the  spirit 


190        CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  IIIDBLE  AGES. 

and  the  principles,  of  social  authority  in  the 
State,  such  as  it  had  been  evolved  at  Rome  in 
the  long  conflict  of  peoples  and  races  that  kept 
steadily  widening  from  the  Tiber  to  the  extrem- 
ities of  the  habitable  world.  The  homely  re- 
publican virtues  of  Old  Rome,  the  humane  and 
discriminating  soul  of  Greek  philosophy,  the 
vast  ambitions  of  the  Orient,  the  tradition  of  a 
golden  age  of  equality  and  simplicity,  the  pro- 
found knowledge  of  the  average  human  mind 
and  its  norms  of  action,  a  religious  respect  for 
distributive  justice,  a  great  sense  of  the  utility 
and  loveliness  of  peace  and  harmony  —  all  these 
are  so  many  visible  traits  or  elements  of  the 
Roman  law  that  render  it  applicable  in  all 
times  to  all  mankind — -what  St.  Augustine 
used  to  call  "  human  reason  itself  set  down  in 
writing." 

This  law  the  Catholic  Church  through  Europe 
elected  to  live  by  herself,  at  a  time  when  every 
barbarian  had  the  rude  law  of  his  own  forest  or 
mountains.  Wherever  a  Catholic  bishop  gov- 
erned, or  a  priest  went  as  a  missionary,  he  bore 
with  him  the  fulness  of  the  law  of  Rome.  It 
clung  to  his  person  when  the  civil  centres  were 
laid  desolate,  Rome,  Milan,  London  and  York, 
Saragossa,  Paris,  Trier,  Cologne.     The  law  of 


CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES,       191 

contracts,  the  law  of  last  wills  and  testaments, 
the  laws  that  govern  the  life  of  the  citizen  in 
the  walled  town  and  the  peasant  in  the  open 
field,  the  general  principles  and  the  practical 
case-law  that  Rome  had  been  creating  from  the 
Rhine  to  the  Euphrates  and  from  the  Grampians 
to  Mount  Atlas,  were  now  in  the  custody  of  the 
same  hands  that  bore  aloft  the  gospel  through 
the  forests  of  Germany,  or  uplifted  the  Christian 
sacrifice  over  the  smoking  ruins  of  the  proudest 
cities  of  ancient  Europe. 

It  is  owing  to  the  Catholic  Church  that  we  now 
enjoy  a  regular  procedure  in  the  administration 
of  law.  Our  legal  procedure  is  substantially 
that  of  the  Roman  law.  The  barbarian  peoples 
long  detested  the  regular  slow  order  of  Roman 
justice.  They  despised  the  written  proof,  the 
summoning  of  witnesses,  the  delays,  exceptions, 
and  appeals  that  secure  the  innocent  or  helpless 
from  oppression,  and  compel  even  the  most  reluc- 
tant to  acknowledge  the  justice  of  condemnation. 
In  all  these  centuries  the  Church  applied  this 
procedure  to  her  own  clerics  in  every  land,  and 
embodied  it  in  the  Canon  Law  that  was  the  same 
the  world  over,  as  Roman  law  had  been  the  same 
the  world  over.  The  justice  of  the  barbarian 
was  summary,  violent,  and  productive  of  endless 


192        CATffOLICJSM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES, 

vendettas.  The  terrible  German  Faustrecht,  the 
Vehmgerichte  of  the  Middle  Ages,  like  the  work 
of  OTir  lynchmg  committees,  were  a  last  relic  of 
what  was  once  universal.  After  the  fall  of  the 
Koman  power,  there  was  no  one  but  the  Catholic 
Church  to  represent  the  social  authority  as  such 
over  against  the  wild  and  savage  feelings  of  a 
multitude  of  barbarians,  intoxicated  with  the 
glory  of  conquest  and  the  riches  of  the  degener- 
ate but  luxurious  world  of  Gaul  and  Italy. 
When  Clovis,  the  founder  of  the  French  mon- 
archy, was  distributing  the  booty  after  a  great 
battle,  he  set  aside  for  himself  a  tall  and  precious 
vase.  Thereupon  a  great  Frank  stepped  out  of 
the  ranks,  and  with  his  spear  shattered  the  vase 
in  pieces.  "  0  King,  thou  shalt  have  thy 
share,"  he  cried,  ^^  and  no  more  !  "  Clovis  swal- 
lowed his  wrath.  The  next  year  while  reviewing 
his  army,  he  passed  before  his  bold  contradictor, 
and  noticing  some  negligence  about  his  dress, 
bade  him  correct  it.  As  the  latter  stooped  to 
tie  the  string  of  his  shoe,  the  king  lifted  his 
own  huge  spear  and  drove  it  through  the  neck 
of  the  soldier.  Thus  a  victorious  king  admin- 
istered justice,  and  it  is  typical  of  what  went  on 
for  centuries  through  Europe. 

It  was  the  bishops  of  the  Church  who  induced 


CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES.       193 

the  barbarians  to  temper  their  own  laws  and 
customs  with  the  law  of  Rome.  And  whatever 
laws  we  study  —  those  of  France,  or  Germany,  or 
Spain,  or  England,  or  Ireland  —  we  shall  find 
that  when  we  come  to  the  line  where  they 
emerge  from  barbarism  or  paganism,  the  transi- 
tion is  effected  by  Catholic  bishops  and  priests. 
Throughout  the  Middle  Ages  all  law  was  looked 
on  as  coming  from  God,  as  holy,  and  therefore 
in  a  way  subject  to  the  approval  and  custody  of 
the  Church.  It  was  the  crown  of  the  moral 
order,  the  basis  of  right  conduct,  and  hence  the 
royal  chanceries  of  Europe  were  always  governed 
by  an  ecclesiastic,  whose  duty  it  was  to  enlighten 
the  king's  conscience,  and  to  see  that  neither  the 
gospel  nor  the  spirit  of  it  were  infringed. 

The  hasty,  vindictive  quality  of  barbarian 
justice  was  long  tempered  by  the  Right  of 
Asylum,  which  the  churches  and  great  mon- 
asteries afforded.'  The  greatest  criminals  could 
find  shelter  there,  as  in  the  Cities  of  Refuge  of 
Israel,  if  not  against  punishment,  at  least  against 
punishment  without  trial  or  defence. 

On  the  judge's  bench  one  could  often  see  the 
Catholic  bishop,  sometimes  administering  the 
law  of  the  State  by  order  of  the  king,  sometimes 
the  counsellor  of  a  soldier  or  noble  ignorant  of 


194        CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES, 

law  and  procedure,  sometimes  the  defender  of  a 
town  or  city  overburdened  with  taxes  or  tributes, 
sometimes  the  lawyer  of  the  oppressed  and  the 
innocent.  He  is  the  real  man  of  law,  the  real 
representative  of  order  and  justice,  and  for 
many  long  centuries  the  whole  fabric  of  society 
depended  on  the  succession  of  good  and  devoted 
men  in  the  hierarchy  of  the  Church  throughout 
Europe.  They  kept  alive  the  sanctity  of  oaths, 
without  which  there  is  no  sure  justice.  The 
latter  is  based  on  the  fear  of  God,  and  only  the 
Catholic  Church  could  emphasize  that  idea  in 
those  ages  of  bloodshed  and  violence.  It  was 
well  that  such  men  feared  something  —  the 
anger  of  God,  the  wrath  of  the  saints  over 
whose  relics  they  swore,  the  pains  of  hell  — 
otherwise  there  would  have  been  no  bounds  to 
the  arbitrary  excesses  of  a  feudal  aristocracy 
that  despised  all  beneath  it,  and  was  ready  to 
cut  down  with  the  sword  any  attempt  to  domi- 
nate it.  Let  any  one  read  the  private  lives  of 
some  Merovingian  and  Caroling  kings,  or  the 
annals  that  tell  the  story  of  Italy  in  the  tenth 
century  and  again  in  the  fourteenth,  and  he 
will  see  to  what  depths  of  impious  blasphemy 
the  mediaeval  man  could  sink  when  he  once 
lost  his  fear  of  the  Catholic  Church. 


CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES.        195 

It  was  the  Catholic  clergy  who  taught  these 
barbarians  how  to  administer  society,  who  wrote 
out  the  formulas  of  government,  the  charters, 
the  diplomas,  the  numerous  documents  needed 
to  carry  on  the  smallest  community  where  there 
is  any  respect  for  property,  office,  personal 
rights  and  duties.  From  the  registry  of  fields 
and  houses  to  the  correspondence  between  king 
and  king,  between  emperor  and  pope,  all  the 
writing  of  the  Middle  Ages  was  long  in  the 
hands  of  the  clergy.  Thereby  they  saved  to 
the  commonwealths  of  Europe  in  their  infancy 
no  little  remnant  of  old  Roman  habits  of  gov- 
ernment, traditions  of  economy,  order,  equity, 
that  they  had  taken  over  from  the  hands  of  the 
laymen  of  Rome  during  the  fifth  century,  when 
the  empire  was  breaking  up  every  year,  like  a 
ship  upon  cruel  rocks  in  a  night  of  storm  and 
despair. 

In  these  centuries  the  frequent  synods  and 
councils  of  the  bishops  and  priests  were  to  the 
world  of  Europe  what  our  Parliament  and  Con- 
gress are  to-day.  The  brain  and  the  heart  of 
Europe  was  then  the  Catholic  clergy.  In  their 
frequent  meetings  the  barbarian  could  see  how 
to  conduct  a  public  assembly,  the  distinction  of 
rank  and  office,  the  uses  of  written  records  and 


196        CATHOLICISM  IN   THE  MIDDLE  AGES. 

documents,  the  individual  self-assertion,  and  tlie 
vote  by  majorities,  the  appeals  to  experience,  to 
history,  to  past  meetings,  to  the  law  of  God  in 
the  Old  and  New  Testament.  He  could  see  the 
stern  and  even  justice  dealt  out  by  the  ecclesi- 
astics to  their  own  delinquent  members  —  de- 
position, degradation,  exile.  He  could  see  how 
these  churchmen,  when  gathered  together,  feared 
no  earthly  power,  and  asserted  the  rights  of  the 
poor  and  the  lowly  against  every  oppression, 
however  high  placed.  He  could  see  how  they 
feared  no  condition  of  men,  and  reproved  popu- 
lar vices  as  well  as  royal  lust  and  avarice.  He 
could  see  how  every  order  and  estate  in  the 
Church  had  its  right  to  representation  in  these 
synods  and  councils.  The  day  will  come  in  the 
twelfth  and  thirteenth  centuries  when  civil  par- 
liaments will  arise  —  the  first  germs  of  the  great 
legislative  bodies  of  our  day  — but  their  cradle 
will  always  remain  the  mediaeval  meeting  in 
which  churchmen,  and  often  the  laymen  with 
them,  laid  the  first  beams  of  constitutional 
government. 

X. 

When  we  say  that  the  Catholic  Church  was 
the  principal   almost  the  only  educator  of  the 


CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES,        197 

Middle  Ages,  we  assert  a  fact  that  to  all  histo- 
rians is  as  evident  as  sunlight.  To  begin  with, 
all  the  schools  were  hers.  Such  schools  as  were 
saved  here  and  there  in  Southern  France  and 
Northern  Italy  out  of  the  wreck  of  the  Roman 
State  and  Empire  were  saved  by  her.  Her  bish- 
ops, indeed,  from  the  fifth  to  the  eighth  century 
were  more  bent  on  the  defence  of  the  weak  and 
the  poor  than  on  aught  else,  on  the  conquest  of 
the  barbarian  character,  the  quenching  of  its 
fires  of  avarice,  luxury,  lawlessness.  Neverthe- 
less, many  were  patrons  of  learning,  like  St. 
Avitus  of  Yienne,  from  whose  writings  Milton 
did  not  disdain  to  borrow  more  than  one  beauty 
of  his  "  Paradise  Lost "  ;  St.  Caesarius  of  Aries, 
a  patron  of  learning  whose  relative,  St.  Csesaria, 
was  one  of  the  first  to  impose  on  the  nuns  of  her 
community  the  copying  and  illumination  of 
manuscripts ;  St.  Nicetius  of  Trier,  St.  Gregory 
of  Tours,  and  many  other  similar  men.  But, 
generally,  all  such  men  considered  that  they 
were  in  a  conflagration,  in  a  storm ;  the  princi- 
pal education  was  that  of  their  wild  and  fero- 
cious masters.  Let  any  one  read  the  pages  of 
Gregory  of  Tours  in  his  Ecclesiastical  History  of 
the  Franks,  or  the  charming  volume  of  Augus- 
tine Thierry  on  the  Merovingian  kings  and  their 


198         CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES, 

courts,  and  he  will  understand  what  a  great  and 
hard  task  lay  before  these  Gallo-Roman  bishops, 
who  stood  for  law  and  order  and  civilization,  as 
well  as  religion,  against  victorious  barbarians 
whose  veneer  of  refinement  only  hid  the  hottest 
fires  of  human  passion. 

The  schools  which  every  Catholic  bishop  from 
the  beginning  necessarily  conducted,  in  order  to 
keep  up  an  enlightened  clergy,  were  never  aban- 
doned. The  archdeacon,  in  this  savage  time, 
looked  after  them.  They  are  numerous  in  Gaul, 
in  Italy,  in  Spain.  The  classics  are  studied  in 
them,  the  history  of  the  Christian  Church,  the 
laws  of  the  Church  and  the  State.  Schoolmas- 
ters arose,  lil^e  Boethius,  Cassiodorns,  and  later 
the  saintly  Bede,  Isidore  of  Seville,  and  Al- 
cuin,  not  to  speak  of  the  multitude  of  Irish  mas- 
ters. The  manuals  and  teaching  of  these  men 
lasted  in  many  places  fully  one  thousand  years. 
It  was  not  the  highest  standard  of  learning,  but 
it  was  all  that  could  be  hoped  for,  and  much 
more  than  the  great  majority  wanted  in  a  period 
of  blood  and  iron,  when  society  was  a-forming 
again,  and  men  could  seriously  ask  themselves 
whether  one  hour  of  bestial  enjoyment  was  not 
worth  a  century  of  study.  Side  by  side  with 
the  numerous  episcopal  schools  went  the  little 


CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES.        199 

schools  of  the  new  monasteries,  where  the  nov- 
ices of  the  Benedictines,  the  children  of  their 
peasants,  those  of  the  nobles  who  had  any  ideal- 
ism, could  and  did  learn  the  principles  and  ele- 
ments of  reading,  writing,  arithmetic,  eloquence, 
music,  geometry,  and  geography.  The  art  of 
handwriting  was  kept  up,  and  the  skill  of  the 
ancients  in  decorating  manuscripts  was  saved. 
Out  of  it,  as  out  of  a  chrysalis,  shall  one  day 
come  a  Ra]Dhael  and  a  Michael  Angelo.  The 
bishops  profited  by  the  good  dispositions  of 
Charlemagne  and  other  upright  kings,  like  Al- 
fred of  England,  to  inculcate  a  love  of  learning 
and  to  keep  alive  their  schools  and  the  supply  of 
masters  —  no  easy  thing  in  the  darkest  days  of 
the  Middle  Ages,  when  culture  was  timid  and 
stay-at-home.  Much  refinement  was  kept  alive 
within  the  peaceful  precincts  of  the  nunneries 
all  over  Europe.  The  noble  pages  of  Count 
Montalembert  on  the  Anglo-Saxon  nuns  ought 
to  be  read  by  all.  The  art  of  embroidery,  of 
lace-working,  of  delicate  handiwork  in  cloth  and 
leather,  the  skill  in  illuminating  and  the  cover- 
ing of  books,  the  domestic  art  of  cooking,  the 
arts  that,  flourish  in  the  immediate  shadow  of 
the  altar,  and  those  nameless  graces  of  adorn- 
ment that  woman  bears  everywhere  with  her  as 


200         CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES. 

an  atmosphere  —  all  flourished  in  these  homes 
of  virtue,  calm  and  reserved  amid  the  din  of 
war,  themselves  an  element  of  education  in 
Christian  eyes,  since  they  upheld  the  great  basic 
principles  of  our  religion  —  self-restraint  and 
self-denial. 

We  shall  leave  to  the  Arabs  of  Spain  th'e 
merit  and  the  credit  honestly  due  them  for 
their  refinement  and  their  civilization  at  a  time 
when  Christendom  was  surely  inferior  in  many 
ways.  But  the  Christendom  of  the  ninth  and 
tenth  centuries  was  necessarily  armed  to  the 
teeth  against  these  very  Spanish  Arabs,  in  whose 
blood  the  new  tinge  of  Greek  culture,  caught 
from  learned  Jews  and  Oriental  Christianity,  was 
too  weak  surely  to  withstand  the  hot  current  of 
the  desert  that  surged  successfully  within  them. 
Christianity  has  what  no  other  religion  has  —  a 
divine  power  of  reform,  which  is  nothing  else 
than  an  uplifting  of  the  common  heart  to  its 
Divine  Founder,  a  cry  of  Peccavi,  and  an  honest 
resolution  to  live  again  by  His  spirit  and  His 
principles.  It  cannot,  therefore,  sink  beneath 
a  certain  level,  cannot  become  utterly  sensual, 
utterly  barbarous  and  pagan. 

The  Middle  Ages  had  two  schools,  wherein 
the  individual  heart  could  always,  at  any  and 


CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES.        201 

every  moment,  rise  to  the  highest  level  —  the 
worship  of  Jesus  in  the  Blessed  Sacrament,  and 
the  loving  veneration  of  His  Blessed  Mother. 
The  former  was  a  perpetual  spring  of  noble 
conceptions  of  life,  a  spur  of  godliness,  an 
incentive  to  repentance,  a  live  coal  on  every 
altar,  whose  perfume  penetrated  all  who  ap- 
proached, and  attracted  and  consumed  with  the 
holiest  of  loves  the  very  susceptible  hearts  of 
mediaeval  men  and  women  not  yet  "  biases " 
with  the  deceptions  of  materialism,  yet  living 
in  and  by  faith,  yet  believing  in  God,  Judgment, 
Heaven,  and  Hell.  All  the  architecture  and  fine 
arts  of  the  Middle  Ages  are  there.  They  are 
thank-offerings,  creations  of  love,  and  as  such, 
stamped  with  an  individual  something,  a  per- 
sonal note  that  disappears  when  faith  grows 
cold.  In  the  "Lauda  Sion  Salvatorem,"  of  St. 
Thomas,  we  hear  the  most  majestic  expression 
of  the  influence  of  Jesus  in  the  Blessed  Sacra- 
ment on  the  daily  spiritual  life  of  mediaeval 
Europe,  just  as  the  Duomo  of  Orvieto  reflects 
His  action  upon  the  hearts  of  the  artists  of 
Italy,  and  the  feast  of  Corpus  Christi  enshrines 
forever  His  plastic  transforming  power  in  the 
widening  and  deepening  of  the  Christian  liturgy. 
As  to  the  Blessed  Virgin   Mary,  the  Middle 


202        CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES, 

Ages  were  solicited  on  all  sides  by  the  mystery 
and  the  beauty  of  this  type.  Only  once  did  it 
enter  the  mind  of  man  to  imagine  in  one  and 
the  same  woman  the  serenity  of  the  noblest 
matron,  the  pathos  of  the  most  loving  mother- 
hood, and  the  white  splendor  of  stainless  maiden- 
hood !  Only  once  did  the  heavens  bend  so  close 
to  the  earth,  and  leave  a  human  heart  glorified 
as  a  pledge  of  their  love,  as  an  earnest  of  their 
value  and  their  reality,  as  a  souvenir  of  long- 
forgotten  days  of  primal  innocence  and  joy  1 
With  an  unerring  Greek  sense  of  order  and 
beauty,  the  earliest  Christian  artists  seized  on 
this  new,  transforming,  moulding  idea.  They 
saw  in  it  something  sacramental,  something  that 
was  at  once  a  symbol  and  a  force.  Jesus  had 
proclaimed  that  God  was  love,  and  His  religion 
therefore  a  service  of  love.  In  the  Maiden 
Mary  that  idea  of  love  was  tangible,  immediate, 
eloquent,  in  our  poor  human  way. 

True,  there  was  the  supreme  beauty  of  the 
Godhead,  of  Jesus  Christ !  But  that  was  an 
original,  flawless,  essential  beauty.  It  shone 
all  too  remotely,  too  sternly  and  solemnly ;  the 
earthly  element  was  there,  indeed,  but  suffering, 
shot  through  with  hideous  streaks  of  sorrow  and 
debasement. 


CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES.        203 

But  here  in  this  type  of  the  Mother  and  Child 
that  divine  love  which  is  the  root  and  the  crown 
of  Christianity,  its  sap  and  support,  is  brought 
within  human  reach.  We  can  handle  its  strong 
fires,  as  it  were,  without  being  scorched  or 
wasted  by  them.^     Between  the  puissant  Maker, 

1  "  Bugged  and  unlovely,  indeed,  was  all  that  the  outward  aspect 
of  religion  at  first  presented  to  the  world  ;  it  was  the  contrast  pre- 
sented by  the  dim  and  dreary  Catacombs  underground  to  the  pure 
and  brilliant  Italian  sky  and  the  monuments  of  Roman  wealth  and 
magnificence  above.  But  in  that  poor  and  mean  society,  which 
cared  so  little  for  the  things  of  sense  and  sight,  there  were  nourished 
§ind  growing  up  —  for,  indeed,  it  was  the  Church  of  the  God  of  all 
glory  and  all  beauty,  the  chosen  home  of  the  Eternal  Creating  Spirit 
—  thoughts  of  a  perfect  beauty  above  this  world;  of  a  light  and  a 
glory  which  the  sun  could  never  see;  of  types,  in  character  and  in 
form,  of  grace,  of  sweetness,  of  nobleness,  of  tenderness,  of  per- 
fection, which  could  find  no  home  in  time  —  which  were  the  eter- 
nal and  the  unseen  on  which  human  life  bordered,  and  which  was 
to  it,  indeed,  'no  foreign  land.'  There  these  Romans  unlearned 
their  old  hardness  and  gained  a  new  language  and  new  faculties. 
Hardly  and  with  difficulty,  and  with  scanty  success,  did  they  at 
first  strive  to  express  what  glowed  with  such  magnificence  to  their 
inward  eye,  and  kindled  their  souls  within  them.  Their  efforts 
were  rude  —  rude  in  art,  often  hardly  less  rude  in  language.  But 
that  divine  and  manifold  idea  before  them,  they  knew  that  it  was 
a  reality ;  it  should  not  escape  them,  though  it  still  baffled  them  — 
they  would  not  let  it  go.  And  so,  step  by  step,  age  after  age,  as  it 
continued  to  haunt  their  minds,  it  gradually  grew  into  greater  dis- 
tinctness and  expression.  From  the  rough  attempts  in  the  Cata- 
combs or  the  later  mosaics,  in  all  their  roughness  so  instinct  with 
the  majesty  and  tenderness  and  severe  sweetness  of  the  thoughts 
which  inspired  them  —  from  the  emblems  and  types  and  figures, 
the  trees  and  rivers  of  Paradise,  the  dove  of  peace,  the  palms  of 
triumph,  the  Good  Shepherd,  the  heart  no  longer  '  desiring,'  but 
at  last  tasting  '  the  waterbrooks,'  from  the  faint  and  hesitating 
adumbrations  of  the  most  awful  of  human  countenances — from  all 


204        CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES. 

the  omniscient  Judge,  and  our  littleness  there  is 
interposed  a  thoroughly  human  figure  of  sym- 
pathy, pity,  and  tenderness  all  made  up,  herself 
the  most  lovely  creation  of  the  divine  hands, 
and  yet  the  most  human  of  our  kind. 

XI. 

I  make  only  passing  reference  to  the  great 
universities  of  the  Middle  Ages.  Every  one 
knows  that  from  Paris  to  Glasgow,  from  Bologna 
to  Aberdeen,  they  are  papal  creations,  living 
and  thriving  on  the  universal  character  and 
privileges  they  drew  from  the  papal  recognition. 
Only  a  universal  world-power  like  the  papacy 
could  create  schools  of  universal  knowledge,  and 
lend  to  their  degrees  a  universal  value.  I  hasten 
to  bring  out  some  less  familiar  views  of  the 
influences  of  Catholicism  as  an  educational  force. 
There  are  many  kinds  of  education,  and  not  all 
of  it  is  gotten  from  books  or  under  the  shadow  of 
the  pedagogue's  severe  visage. 

these  feeble  but  earnest  attempts  to  body  forth  what  the  soul  was 
full  of,  Christian  art  passed,  with  persistent  undismayed  advance, 
through  the  struggles  of  the  Middle  Ages  to  the  inexpressible  deli- 
cacy and  beauty  of  Giotto  and  Fra  Angelico,  to  the  Last  Supper 
of  Leonardo,  to  the  highest  that  the  human  mind  ever  imagined  of 
tenderness  and  unearthly  majesty,  in  the  Mother  and  the  Divine 
Son  of  the  Madonna  di  San  Sisto."  —  Dean  Church  in  "Gifts  of 
Civilization »»  (1892),  pp.  208-9. 


CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES.       205 

It  is  true  that  the  education  given  by  the 
Catholip  Church  was  very  largely  for  ecclesiastics. 
Still,  there  was  a  great  deal  more  of  lay  educa- 
tion than  is  usually  admitted,  especially  in 
France  and  Italy.  From  the  renaissance  of  the 
Roman  law  in  the  twelfth  century,  laymen  had 
the  most  distinguished  careers  open  to  them, 
and  as  time  went  on  they  practically  monopo- 
lized the  great  wealth  that  always  follows  the 
complication  and  intricacies  of  the  law.  How- 
ever, the  churchmen  used  their  education,  on  the 
whole,  for  the  popular  good.  Every  cathedral  in 
Europe  luas  a  seat  of  good  governr)ient.  There 
traditions  of  justice  and  equity  were  administered 
with  an  eye  to  the  new  needs  of  the  times. 
There  was  learning  with  charity,  affection  for 
the  multitudes  with  inherited  practice  of  self- 
sacrifice.  Often  the  only  power  to  resist  the 
excesses  of  feudalism  and  to  insist  on  the  com- 
mon rights  of  man  was  the  bishop.  In  his 
immortal  tale  of  the  "Promessi  Sposi,"  Alessandro 
Manzoni  has  drawn  with  a  master-hand  the 
portrait  of  a  great  bishop  in  conflict  with  a 
feudal  master.  That  this  bishop  was  really 
Federigo  Borromeo,  a  near  relative  of  St.  Charles 
Borromeo,  does  not  detract  from  the  truth  or 
interest  of  the  portrayal.     Every  monastery  was 


206        CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES. 

a  home  of  the  peaceful  arts,  domestic  and 
agricultural.  The  great  educational  virtues  of 
order,  economy,  regularity,  division  of  labor, 
foresight,  and  the  like,  were  taught  in  each  to- 
gether with  other  useful  virtues,/  like  patience, 
humility,  submission  —  those  elements  of  the 
poor  man's  philosophy  that  are  as  useful  to-day 
when  a  Tolstoi  preaches  them,  as  they  were 
when  Christ  gave  the 'example  that  alone  makes 
them  practicable,  and  as  they  will  be  when  the 
hot  fevers  of  our  changing  conditions  have 
burned  out,  and  we  settle  down  again  to  one  of 
those  long  cycles  of  social  immobility  that  have 
their  function  in  the  vast  round  of  human  life,  as 
sleep  has  in  the  daily  life  of  the  individual.  By 
its  very  nature,  the  details  of  the  popular  educa- 
tion of  the  Middle  Ages  escape  us.  There  are  no 
written  annals  for  the  poor  and  the  lowly.  Yet 
all  over  Europe  there  went  on  daily  a  profitable 
education  of  the  masses  as  to  their  true  origin 
and  end,  the  nature  value  and  uses  of  life,  the 
nature  and  sanctity  of  duty,  calling,  estate. 
Every  church  was  a  forum  of  Christian  politics, 
where  the  people  were  formed  easily  and  regularly 
by  thousands  of  devoted  parish  priests,  whose 
names  are  written  in  the  Book  of  Life,  who 
walked  this  earth  blamelessly,  and   who   were 


CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES.       207 

the  true  schoolmasters'  of  European  mankind  in 
the  days  of  its  infancy  and  first  helpless  youth. 
Let  any  one  read  "  Ekkehard/'  the  noble  historical 
romance  of  Victor  Scheffel,  and  the  still  nobler 
poem  of  Weber,  "  Dreizehnlinden,"  and  he  will 
see,  done  by  two.  hands  of  genius,  the  process 
that  is  otherwise  written  in  all  the  chronicles  and 
laws  of  Europe,  in  all  its  institutions,  and  the 
great  facts  of  its  history  as  far  as  they  affect  the 
interests  of  the  people.  The  countless  churches, 
chapels,  oratories,  were  like  so  many  open 
museums  and  galleries,  where  the  eye  gained  a 
sense  of  color  and  outline,  the  mind  a  wider 
range  of  historical  information,  and  the  heart 
many  a  consolation.  They  were  the  books  of 
the  people,  fitted  to  their  aptitudes,  located  where 
they  were  needed,  forever  open  to  the  reaper  in 
the  field,  the  tired  traveller  on  his  way,  the 
women  and  children  of  the  village  or  hamlet. 
They  were  so  many  silent  pulpits,  out  of  which 
the  loving  Jesus  looked  down  and  taught  men 
from  His  cross,  from  His  tabernacle,  the  true 
education  of  equality,  fraternity,  patience  —  all 
healing  virtues  of  His  great  heart. 

From  Otranto  to  Drontheim,  from  the  Hebrides 
and  Greenland  to  the  Black  Sea,  there  went  on 
this  effective  preaching,  this  largest  possible  edu- 


208        CATHOLICISM  liV  THE  MIDDLE  AGES, 

cation  for  real  life.  In  it  whole  peoples  were 
the  pupils,  and  the  Catholic  Church  was  the 
mistress.  When  it  was  done,  out  of  semi- 
savages  she  had  made  polite  and  industrious 
nations ;  out  of  ignorant  and  brutal  warriors 
she  had  made  Christian  knights  and  soldiers; 
out  of  enemies  of  the  fine  arts  and  their  rude 
destroyers  she  had  made  a  new  world  of  most 
cunning  artificers  and  craftsmen;  out  of  the 
scum  and  slime  of  humanity  that  the  Roman 
beat  down  with  his  sword  and  the  Greek  drew 
back  from  with  horror,  she  had  made  gentle- 
men like  Bayard  and  ladies  like  Blanche  of 
France  and  Isabel  of  Castile. 

In  the  history  of  mankind  this  was  never 
seen  before,  and  will,  perhaps,  never  be  seen 
again.  How  was  the  wonder  accomplished 
that  the  Slav,  dreamy  and  mystical,  should 
feel  and  act  like  the  fierce  and  violent  Teuton; 
that  the  highly  individual  and  romantic  Keltic 
soul  should  suffer  the  yoke  of  Roman  order  and 
discipline?  How  came  it  about  that  all  over 
Europe  there  was  a  common  understanding  as 
to  the  principles  of  life,  of  mutual  human  rela- 
tions, of  the  dealings  of  one  society  with  an- 
other? How  could  it  be  that  the  word  of  an 
aged  man  at  Rome  should  be  borne  with  the 


CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES.       209 

swiftness  of  the  wind  to  every  little  church, 
to  every  castled  crag,  to  every  forgotten  ham- 
let and  remote  valley  of  the  Alps  or  the  Pyre- 
nees^ and  be  listened  to  with  reverence  and 
submission?  How  was  this  absolute  conquest, 
for  conquest  it  was,  of  the  human  heart  ac- 
complished ?  Yery  largely  by  the  Liturgy  of 
the  Catholic  Church.  It  was  a  conquest  of 
prayer,  the  public  prayer  of  the  Catholic 
Church.  This  organized  worship  of  God  lies 
at  the  basis  of  all  European  civilization,  and 
it  is  the  just  boast  of  Catholicism,  that  such  as 
it  is,  it  is  her  work.  When  we  take  up  a 
Roman  Missal,  we  take  up  the  book  that 
more  than  any  other  transformed  the  world 
of  barbarism.  In  it  lie  the  ordinary  public 
worship  of  the  Catholic  Church,  the  service 
of  the  Mass,  the  gospels  broken  up  into  short 
paragraphs,  the  marrow  of  the  life-wisdom  of 
the  Old  Testament,  the  deposit  of  world-ex- 
perience that  her  great  bishops  and  priests  had 
gained,  profound  but  true  comments  of  the 
Church  herself,  hymns  of  astonishing  beauty, 
tenderness,  and  rapture,  prayers  that  are  like 
ladders  of  light  from  the  heart  of  man  to  the 
feet  of  his  Maker.  It  is  this  public  prayer  that 
ensouled  every  church,  from  the  wooden  chapels 


210        CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES. 

of  Ireland  or  Norway  to  the  high  embossed  roof 
of  Westminster  or  Cologne.  This  prayer  first 
inflamed  the  heart  of  the  priest,  and  put  into 
his  mouth  a  tongue  of  irresistible  conviction, 
and,  therefore,  of  unction  and  eloquence.  After 
allj  it  was  nothing  but  the  Scripture  of  the  Old 
and  the  New  Testament;  but  it  was  the  Scripture 
announced,  spoken,  sung,  preached ;  the  Scrip- 
ture appealing  to  the  public  heart  with  every  art 
that  man  was  capable  of  using  to  make  it  triumph. 
There  was  never  a  more  profound  historical  error 
than  to  imagine  that  the  Middle  Ages  were  igno- 
rant of  the  Scriptures.  Let  any  one  who  yet 
labors  under  the  delusion  read  the  (epoch-making 
book  of  two  learned  writers,  Schwarz  and  Laib, 
on  the  Poor  Man's  Bible  in  the  Middle  Ages. 

So  there  grew  up  the  concept  of  solidarity,  of 
a  Christian  people  bound  together  by  ties  holier 
and  deeper  than  race,  or  tongue,  or  nationality, 
or  human  culture  could  create  —  a  sense  of  mu- 
tual responsibility,  a  public  conscience,  and  a 
public  will.  What  is  hioion  as  piihlic  opinion 
is  in  reality  a  mediaeval  product,  for  then  first 
the  world  saw  all  mankind,  of  Europe  at  least, 
possessed  of  common  views  and  conscious  of 
their  moral  value  and  necessity. 

In  so  far  as  public  opinion  is  an  educational 


CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES.       211 

force,  it  is  the  result  of  those  frequent  appeals 
that  the  clergy  of  the  Middle  Ages  made  to  a 
higher  law  and  a  higher  order  of .  ideas  than  hu- 
man ingenuity  or  force  could  command  —  it  is 
the  result  of  a  thousand  conflicts  like  those  about 
royal  marriages  and  divorces  that  at  once  rise  to 
a  supernatural  level,  of  as  many  dead-locks  like 
that  between  Henry  IV.  of  Germany  and  Gregory 
VII.,  where  the  independence,  the  very  existence, 
of  the  spiritual  power  was  at  stake.  The  only 
weapons  of  the  Church  were  moral  ones,  popular 
*  faith  in  her  office  and  her  rights,  universal  popu- 
lar respect  for  her  tangible  and  visible  services, 
popular  affection  for  her  as  the  mystical  Bride 
of  Christ,  a  popular  conviction  that  she  alone 
stood  between  armed  rapacity  and  the  incipient 
liberties  of  the  people. 

XII. 

There  is  a  very  subtle  and  remarkable  educa- 
tional influence  of  the  Catholic  Church  that  is 
not  often  appreciated  at  its  full  value  —  I  mean 
her  share  in  the  preservation  and  formation  of 
the  great  modern  vernaculars^  such  as  English, 
German,  Irish,  the  Slavonic  tongues.  Even 
languages    like    French,   Italian,   and    Spanish, 


212        CATHOLICISM  IN   THE  MIDDLE  AGES, 

the  Eomance  tongues,  formed  from  the  every- 
day or  rustic  Latin  of  the  soldiers  and  the 
traders  of  Rome,  her  peasants  and  slaves,  owe  a 
great  deal  to  the  affection  and  solicitude  of  the 
Church.  In  all  these  tongues  there  was  always 
a  certain  amount  of  instruction  provided  for  the 
people.  The  missionaries  had  to  learn  them, 
to  explain  the  great  truths  in  them,  and  to 
deal  day  by  day  with  the  fierce  German,  the 
turbulent  Slav,  the  high-spirited  Kelt.  It  has 
always  been  the  policy  of  the  Catholic  Church 
to  respect  the  natural  and  traditional  in  every 
people  so  far  as  they  have  not  gotten  utterly 
corrupted.  From  Csedmon  down,  the  earliest 
monuments  of  Anglo-Saxon  literature  are  nearly 
all  ecclesiastical,  ancj  all  of  it  has  been  saved  by 
ecclesiastics.  The  earliest  extensive  written 
monument  of  the  German  tongues  is  the  famous 
Heliand  or  paraphrase  of  the  gospel,  all  imbued 
with  the  high  warlike  spirit  of  the  ancient 
Teutons.  All  that  we  have  of  the  old  Gothic 
tongue,  the  basis  of  German  philology,  has  come 
down  to  us  through  the  translation  of  the  Bible 
by  the  good  Bishop  Ulfilas  out  of  the  Vulgate 
into  Gothic,  or  from  the  solicitude  of  St.  Colum- 
banus  and  his  Irish  companions  to  convert  the 
Arian    Goths   of   Lombardy.      These   languages 


CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES,       213 

were  once  rude  and  coarse  ;  they  got  a  high 
content,  the  thought  of  Greece  and  Rome, 
through  the-  Catholic  churchman.  They  took 
on  higher  and  newer  grammatical  forms  in  the 
same  way.  Spiritual  ideas  entered  them,  and 
a  whole  world  of  images  and  linguistic  helps 
came  from  a  knowledge  of  the  Scriptures  that 
were  daily  expounded  in  them.  Through  the 
Old  Testament  the  history  of  the  world  entered 
these  tongues  as  explained  by  Catholic  priests. 
Their  pagan  coarseness  and  vulgarity  were 
toned  down  or  utterly  destroyed.  St.  Patrick 
and  his  bishops  and  poets,  we  are  told,  exam- 
ined the  Brehon  Law  of  the  Irish  and  blessed 
it,  except  what  was  against  the  gospel  or  the 
natural  law.  Then  he  bade  the  poet  Dubtach 
put  a  thread  of  verse  about  it,  that  is,  cast  it 
into  metrical  form.  The  first  Irish  mission- 
aries in  Germany,  like  St.  Gall  and  St.  Kilian, 
spoke  to  the  people  both  in  Latin  and  in  Ger- 
man, and  it  is  believed  that  the  first  German 
dictionary  was  their  work,  for  the  needs  of 
preaching  and  intercourse.  Some  shadow  of 
the  majesty  of  Rome  thus  fell  upon  the  modern 
tongues  from  the  beginning,  some  infusion  of 
the  subtleness  and  delicacy  of  the  Greek  mind 
fell  to  their  lot.     The  mental  toil  and  victory 


214        CATHOLICISM  IN   THE  MIDDLE  AGES. 

and  glory  of  a  thousand  years  were  thus  saved, 
at  least  in  part.  The  Catholic  Church  was  the 
bridge  over  which  these  great  and  desirable 
goods  came  down  in  a  long  night  of  confusion 
and  disorder.  The  great  epics  of  France  and 
Germany,  the  Chansons  de  Geste,  were  saved 
in  the  monasteries  or  with  the  connivance  of 
monks,  to  whom  the  wandering  singers  were 
very  dear  in  spite  of  their  satire  and  free 
tongues.  The  "  Chanson  de  Eoland,"  the  "  Lied 
of  the  Nibelungs,"  the  ''  Lied  of  Gudrun,"  the 
great  Sagas  and  Edda  of  the  Northland,  owe 
their  preservation  and  no  little  of  their  content, 
color,  and  form,  to  the  interest  of  monks  and 
churchmen  in  the  saving  of  old  stories,  old 
fables,  and  old  genealogies,  especially  after 
the  first  period  of  national  conversion  had  gone 
by.  We  have  yet  in  Irish  a  lovely  tale,  the 
"  Colloquy  of  Ossian  with  St.  Patrick,"  in  which 
the  average  sympathy  of  the  Old  Irish  cleric  for 
the  relics  of  the  past  and  his  just  sense  of  their 
spirit  and  meaning  are  brought  out  very  vividly 
and  picturesquely. 

It  is  in  the  Romance  languages  that  the 
noble  institution  of  chivalry  that  Leon  Gau- 
tier  has  so  perfectly  described  found  its  best 
expression  -,  that  the  roots  of  all  modem  poetry 


CATHOLICISM  IN   THE  MIDDLE  AGES.       215 

that  will  live  are  now  known  to  lie;  that  the 
introspective  and  meditative  phases  of  the 
literary  spirit  first  showed-  themselves  on  a 
large  scale ;  that  the  intensely  personal  note  of 
Christianity  comes  out  quite  free  and  natural, 
unattended  by  that  distracting  perfection  of 
form  that  the  classic  Latin  and  Greek  could 
not  help  offering ;  that  purely  personal  virtues 
like  courage,  honor,  loyalty  in  man,  fidelity, 
tenderness,  gentleness,  moral  beauty  in  woman, 
are  brought  out  as  the  highest  natural  goods 
of  life,  in  contradiction  to  the  Greek  and 
Koman  who  looked  on  the  great  political  vir- 
tues and  the  commonwealth,  the  State  itself,  as 
the  only  fit  ideals  of  humanity.  Thereby,  to 
say  the  least,  they  excluded  the  weaker  sex 
from  its  due  share  in  all  life  and  from  public 
recognition  of  those  excellencies  by  which  alone 
it  could  hope  to  shine  and  excel.  One  day  the 
labor  of  ages  blossomed  in  a  perfect  and  centen- 
nial flower,  the  '^  Divina  Commedia  "  of  Dante, 
that  has  ten  thousand  roots  in  the  daily  life, 
the  common  doctrine  and  discipline  of  the 
Catholic  Church,  and  remains  forever  an  unap- 
proachable document  of  the  mediaeval  genius, 
indeed,  but  also  the  immortal  proof  of  how 
thoroughly  the  Catholic  Church  had   educated 


216        CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES. 

the  popular  mind  and  heart  in  all  that  was 
good,  true,  and  worthy  of  imitation,  in  antiquity 
as  well  as  in  the  history  that  then  as  now  men 
were  making  from  day  to  day.  He  was  con- 
scious himself  that  heaven  and  earth  had  built 
up  the  poem  in  his  great  heart.  Perhaps  he 
was  also  conscious  that  God  was  making  of  him 
another  Homer,  another  Vergil,  out  of  whose 
glorious  lines  all  future  ages  should,  even  de- 
spite themselves,  drink  a  divine  ichor  —  the 
spirit  of  Jesus  Christ  as  exemplified  in  Cathol- 
icism. 

XIII. 

Under  the  aegis  of  this  extraordinary  power 
of  the  Church,  there  grew  up  a  common  mental 
cultu/re,  based  on  religion  and  penetrated  with  its 
spirit.  There  was  one  language  of  scholarship 
and  refinement  —  the  Latin  —  that  often  rose  to 
a  height  not  unworthy  of  its  original  splendor. 
Something  common  and  universal  marked  all  the 
arts,  and  the  workman  of  Italy  or  Germany 
might  exercise  his  craft  with  ease  and  profit  in 
England  or  Spain.  Within  the  Catholic  fold 
the  freedom  of  association  was  unlimited,  not 
only  for  religious  purposes,  but  for  all  economic 
and  artistic  ones   as  well.     Human   energy  es- 


CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES.       217 

sayed  every  channel  of  endeavor,  and  in  some, 
notably  in  architecture,  has  never  soared  so  high 
in  the  centuries  that  followed. 

One  result  of  this  solidarity  of  thought  and 
purpose  was  the  creation  of  what  we  call  the 
Westejii  mind  and  spirit,  a  complex  ideal  view 
of  life  that  differs  from  the  past  views  of  Greek 
and  Roman,  as  it  is  in  many  respects  opposed 
to  the  life-philosophy  of  the  Eastern  worjd. 
Human  liberty  and  equality,  hopefulness  in 
progress,  a  spirit  of  advance,  of  self-reliance  — 
an  optimism,  in  other  words  —  are  among  its 
connoting  marks.  All  this  is  older  and  deeper 
than  anything  of  the  last  three  or  four  centuries. 
It  was  in  the  Catholic  Italian  Columbus,  ventur- 
ing out  upon  the  unknown  ocean,  and  his  Portu- 
guese predecessors,  in  the  Conquistadori,  in  the 
endless  attempts  to  penetrate  China  and  the 
East  from  Marco  Polo  and  the  Franciscan  mis- 
sionaries down,  in  the  Crusaders,  in  the  long  and 
successful  resistance  of  Hungary,  Poland,  and 
Austria  to  the  advance  of  Islam.  Here,  indeed, 
the  Western  world  owes  a  debt  of  gratitude  to 
those  who  arrested  the  teachings  and  the  spirit 
of  the  camel-driver  of  Mecca.  No  one  saw  bet- 
ter than  the  bishops  of  Rome  that  the  world 
might  not  stand  still ;  that  the  eternal  antithesis 


218        CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES. 

of  the  East  and  West  was  on  again;  that  the 
fierce  impact  of  Islam  breaking  against  the  walls 
of  Constantinople  was  nothing  in  comparison  with 
its  boglike  encroachments  at  every  point  of  con- 
tact with  Europe.  It  is  a  pathetic  tale  —  their 
tears,  implorings,  and  objurgations.  Something 
they  accomplished.  But  if  the  Oriental  problem 
is  still  quivering  with  life ;  if  \Yestern  civiliza- 
tion, that  is  in  all  essentials  Catholic  civilization, 
has  to  go  again  at  the  mighty  task  —  but  this 
time  from  the  setting  sun  instead  of  from  Jeru- 
salem and  St.  Jean  d'Acre — it  is  because  one 
day,  shortly  after  the  fall  of  Constantinople  in 
1452,  the  powers  of  Europe  left  the  Bishop  of 
Rome  at  Ancona  call  on  them  in  vain  to  go  out 
with  the  little  pontifical  fleet  and  retake  from 
the  unspeakable  Turk  the  city  of  Constantino- 
ple. Pius  II.,  not  the  kings  of  Europe,  was  the 
real  statesman,  as  every  succeeding  decade  shows. 
However,  the  popes  estopped  the  fatalism  and 
dry  rot  of  Islam  from  the  possession  of  the 
Danube;  they  loaned  indirectly  to  the  Grand 
Dukes  of  Muscovy  the  strength  out  of  which 
they  one  day  carved  the  office  of  Czar;  their 
influence  was  felt  in  all  the  Balkan  peninsula ; 
their  city  was  the  one  spot  where  an  intelligent 
and  disinterested  observation  of  events  by  the 


CATHOLICISM  IJSf  THE  MIDDLE  AGES.        219 

Golden  Horn  went  on.  Better,  after  all,  a  thou- 
sand times,  a  Europe  torn  by  domestic  religious 
dissension,  than  a  Europe,  perhaps  an  America, 
caught  in  the  deadly  anaconda-folds  of  Islam, 
that  never  yet  failed  to  smother  all  mental  and 
civil  progress,  and  has  thereby  declared  itself  the 
most  immoral  of  all  religious  forces  known  to 
history ! 

XIY. 

Other  phases  there  are  of  Catholicism  as  a 
plastic  formative  power  in  the  life  of  the  peoples 
of  Europe,  as  the  creator  of  their  distinctive  in- 
stitutions ;  they  may  come  up  for  brief  notice  at 
another  time.  Thus,  the  institution  of  chivalry, 
with  its  mystic*  idealization  of  woman ;  the  ever- 
increasing  authority  and  influence  of  woman 
herself;  the  honor  of  saintly  character,  essen- 
tially, like  woman,  unwarlike ;  the  function  of 
the  pilgrim,  the  monk,  the  papal  envoy,  as  dis- 
seminators of  general  views  and  principles ;  the 
publication  of  great  papal  documents,  with  their 
lengthy  arguments ;  the  multitude  of  friars  draw- 
ing their  office  and  authority  from  a  central 
source  and  upholding  its  prestige  at  every 
village  cross;  the  history  of  the  Church  as 
related  from  ten  thousand  pulpits ;  the  genuine 


220        CATHOLICISM  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES. 

influence  of  the  great  festivals,  general  and 
local ;  the  public  penances ;  the  frequent  strik- 
ing renunciation  of  high  office  and  worldly  com- 
forts ;  the  frequent  reformation  of  manners ; 
the  increasing  use  of  objects  of  piety,  of  the  fine 
arts,  as  a  spur  or  a  lever  for  devotion  —  all  these 
and  other  agencies  were  everywhere  and  at  once 
at  work,  and  helped  to  give  the  mediaeval  life 
that  intense  charm  of  motion,  color,  and  variety 
that  every  student  of  history  must  always  find 
in  it. 


THE  CHRISTIANS  OF  ST.  THOMAS. 

AccoEDiNG  to  very  venerable  legends  the 
gospel  was  preached  in  Southern  India  by  the 
Apostle  St.  Thomas.  The  ancient  Acts  of  St. 
Thomas  relate  in  minute  detail  his  journeys  in 
farther  India,  and  the  critics  Cunningham, 
Gutschmid,  and  Sallet  have  recognized  in  several 
of  the  royal  names  mentioned  in  these  semi- 
Gnostic  legends  those  of  actual  Indian  rulers 
contemporary  with  the  apostle.  It  is  certain 
that  previous  to  535  a.d.  the  Christian  traveller 
Cosmos  Indicopleustes  found  Christian  com- 
munities in  three  places  in  India  —  Ceylon, 
Meliapore,  and  Kaljani  (north  of  Bombay). 
There  is  nothing,  therefore,  extraordinary  in  the 
claim  of  the  Malabar  Christians  that  they  were 
first  converted  by  St.  Thomas.  For  centuries 
they  have  shown  his  great  sepulchre  on  Mount 
St.  Thomas,  in  the  suburbs  of  Madras,  though  it 
is  claimed  by  many  that  his  body  was  eventually 
translated  to  Edessa,  in  Mesopotamia.  He  is 
said  to  have  founded  seven  churches  on  the 
Malabar  coast,  and  to  have  penetrated  as  far  as 

221 


222  THE  CHRISTIANS  OF  ST.    THOMAS. 

Madras,  where  he  converted  Sagan,  the  king  of 
the  country.  A  column  used  to  be  shown  at 
Quilon,  on  the  Malabar  coast,  said  to  have  been 
erected  by  St.  Thomas.  He  died  by  the  hand  of 
a  Brahmin,  who  pierced  him  with  a  lance  as  he 
was  praying  on  the  mountain  which  bears  his 
name.  Philostorgius  relates  that  a  certain 
Arian  bishop,  Theophilus,  was  sent  about  340 
A.D.  to  the  ^^  innermost  parts  of  India,"  and  a 
local  tradition  of  long  standing  on  the  Malabar 
coast  places  at  this  epoch  (345  a.d.)  the  mission 
to  India  of  the  famous  Mar  Thomas  Cama,  or 
Cana,  who  is  described  by  some  as  an  Armenian 
merchant,  by  others  as  a  Canaanite,  or  as  a 
native  of  Jerusalem.  It  was  precisely  the  period 
when  Sapor  II.  persecuted  most  cruelly  the 
Christians  of  Persia.  ' 

The  Christian  communities  of  India  are  in  any 
case  of  very  ancient  origin.  Before  the  end  of  the 
second  century  Christianity  was  spread  over  the 
neighboring  Persia  or  the  ancient  Parthia.  At 
the  same  time  the  Christians  had  at  Edessa  a 
powerful  and  intelligent  propaganda,  which 
could  not  overlook  the  extreme  Orient.  The 
trade  caravans  going  and  coming,  the  Hellenic 
influences  yet  working  since  the  death  of 
Alexander,  the  ubiquitous  Jewries,  made  the  in- 


TBE  CHRISTIANS  OF  ST:   THOMAS.  223 

troduction  of  Cliristianity  into  farther  India  a 
natural  and  easy  undertaking.  Whoever  was 
the  first  apostle  of  the  Malabar  Christians,  the 
churches  of  Syria  and  Persia  carried  on  the 
work.  They  call  themselves  yet  Suriani  or 
Syrians.  The  Syriac  tongue  is  their  liturgical 
language  ;  they  use  the  Syriac  version  of  the 
Scriptures ;  they  follow  the  Syro-Chaldaic  rite  ; 
and  they  adopted  the  heresy  of  Nestorius  from 
the  fugitive  Syrians  and  Persians  of  the  fifth  and 
following  centuries.  Besides  the  continuous 
tradition,  local  monuments  confirm  the  antiquity 
of  the  Christian  religion  in  India ;  crosses, 
symbolic  images  of  the  Trinity,  inscriptions  in 
Pahlavi,  whose  contents  are  as  old  as  the  fifth 
century,  bear  witness  to  a  once  flourishing  state 
of  Christianity.  Being  outside  of  the  Roman 
Empire,  our  ordinary  authorities  know  little  of 
them.  Yet  the  mediasval  Christians  never  for- 
got their  existence.  We  learn  from  the  Saxon 
Chronicle  and  other  sources  how  AKred  the 
Great  sent  presents  to  'them  about  the  end  of  the 
ninth  century,  and  how  Swithelm,  Bishop  of 
Sherburne,  bearer  of  the  royal  alms,  brought 
back  to  the  king  Oriental  pearls  and  aromatic 
liquors.  The  early  Italian  missionaries  of  the 
fourteenth  century  were  surprised  to  find  Christian 


224  THE  CHEISTlAJSfS  OF  ST.    THOMAS. 

communities  in  the  Malabar  cities  regarded  as 
socially  equal  to  tlie  Brahmins  and  holding  high 
positions  in  the  State. 

Marco  Polo  heard  of  them  at  the  end  of  the 
thirteenth  century,  and  mentions  the  little 
church  of  St.  Thome,  yet  in  existence  in  the 
town  of  the  same  name  near  Madras.  Since  the 
year  1500  the  Portuguese  have  cultivated  most 
intimate  relations  with  this  peculiar  people. 
These  early  European  discoverers  were  astonished 
to  find  Christian  settlements  at  the  end  of  the 
world,  with  pilgrimages,  pious  hymns,  and, 
above  all,  an  ecclesiastical  architecture  quite 
different  from  the  pagoda  style  of  the  Indian 
temples.  Their  little  churches,  scattered  here 
and  there  in  the  mountainous  interior,  have 
steep  roofs,  unknown  elsewhere  in  India,  ogee 
arches,  buttresses,  choirs  ornamented  with  wooden 
sculptures,  altars,  and  the  like.  They  are  fre- 
quently built  of  the  indestructible  teak  wood, 
and  remind  one  of  the  ancient  wooden  churches 
of  Ireland,  England,  and  Norway.  It  is  clear 
that  the  models  of  these  churches  were  not 
Indian,  but  Syro-Byzantine  structures  —  just 
such  buildings  as  those  to  which  we  owe  the 
earliest  dawnings  of  Gothic  architecture.  .  The 
Christians  of  St.  Thomas  possessed  only  the  sac- 


THE  CHRISTIANS  OF  ST.    THOMAS,  225 

raments  of  baptism,  eucharist,  and  orders  when 
they  were  discovered  by  the  Portuguese.  That 
of  penance  was  unknown  to  them,  but  they 
venerated  the  relics  of  the  saints,  and  had 
pilgrimages,  especially  to  the  grave  of  St. 
Thomas,  the  holiest  spot  in  the  remote  Orient. 
They  kept  the  Scriptures  in  the  churches  only, 
blessed  holy  water  by  dissolving  in  it  some  earth 
from  the  sepulchre  of  their  apostle,  made  the 
sign  of  the  cross  from  left  to  right,  laid  great 
stress  on  the  blessings  of  their  priests  or  Cassan- 
ars,  and  used  no  vestments  save  a  long  linen 
garment  at  the  celebration  of  Mass,  for  which 
they  employed  cocoa  wine  and  bread  mixed  with 
oil  and  salt.  They  had  an  intense  veneration 
for  the  holy  cross,  which  even  yet  plays  a  great 
part  in  their  domestic  and  social  lives,  but  did 
not  venerate  other  images. 

Their  priests  were  ignorant,  simoniacal,  and 
fanatically  national  and  local  in  their  views. 
During  the  sixteenth  century  many  efforts  were 
made  to  bring  these  interesting  people  into  the 
Koman  fold,  to  make  them  abandon  their  Nes- 
torian  heresy  and  adopt  the  rites  and  language 
of  the  Western  Church.  A  seeming  success  was 
obtained  in  1599  at  the  Synod  of  Diamper, 
and  the  seventy-five  parishes  and  two  thousand 


226  THE  CHBISTIANS   OF  ST,   THOMAS, 

churches  were  finally  incorporated  with  the  Catho- 
lic conununion.  Since  then  their  Catholic  bishops 
are  of  the  Latin  rite,  though  the  clergy  is  native. 
In  the  course  of  the  seventeenth  century  national 
feeling,  dislike  of  the  Portuguese  habits  and  juris- 
diction, the  intrigues  of  Oriental  schismatics  and 
Dutch  traders,  aroused  much  bitterness  in  these 
venerable  little  communities.  The  Carmelites 
took  charge  of  the  mission  about  1663,  and  did 
much  to  restore  harmony  and  union  with  Rome, 
though  they  could  not  heal  the  great  schism 
which  had  taken  place  ten  years  earlier,  and 
which  lasts  to  this  day  among  the  Jacobite 
Christians  of  the  territory.  The  unhappy  con- 
flicts between  the  popes  and  the  Portuguese 
hierarchy  of  India  in  the  latter  half  of  the 
seventeenth  century,  and  the  grave  troubles 
arising  from  the  discussion  of  the  Malabar  cus- 
toms in  the  eighteenth,  were  not  calculated  to 
edify  the  Christians  of  St.  Thomas,  always  more 
or  less  restless  under  a  foreign  and  Western 
yoke.  But  the  large  freedom  enjoyed  by  the 
Catholic  missionaries  since  the  British  conquest 
of  India  has  produced  its  results,  and  the  influ- 
ence of  the  Roman  Church  is  spreading  once 
more  among  these  most  ancient  of  Christian 
communities.    The  diocese  of  Cranganore,  estab- 


THE  CHRISTIANS  OF  ST.    THOMAS.  227 

lished  in  1605  for  their' spiritual  direction,  was 
suppressed  in  1838  by  Gregory  XVI.  This  was 
one  of  the '  many  griefs  which  brought  about 
the  schism  of  Goa.  Since  then  they  have  been 
governed  by  vicars  apostolic,  not  without  inter- 
ference on  the  part  of  the  Goan  clergy.  In 
1887  Leo  XIII.  established  two  new  vicariates 
for  the  Syro-Malabar  Catholic  population,  which 
is  now  about  210,000,  with  nearly  400  native 
clergy  and  340  churches  and  chapels.  The 
vicars  apostolic  are  bishops  of  the  Latin  rite, 
but  each  is  bound  to  have  a  vicar  general  of  the 
Syro-Malabar  rite.  There  were  lately  160,000 
adhering  to  the  Monophysite  heresy,  which 
they  adopted  in  the  seventeenth  century  in  lieu 
of  Nestorianism,  and  some  30,000  who  cling  to 
the  Mellusian  schism  caused  by  the  Vatican 
Council. 

The  Christians  of  St.  Thomas  have  preserved 
their  unity  and  independence  by  a  severe  church 
discipline.  The  weapon  of  excommunication  is 
seldom  used  in  vain.  They  retain  the  most 
tender  of  ancient  Christian  customs  —  the  Agape 
or  Jove-feast.  On  great  feasts  and  solemn  occa- 
sions a  simple  banquet  is  eaten  in  the  church 
by  all  the  people,  and  the  missionaries  delight 
in  describing  the   piety  and  recollection  then 


228  THE  CHRISTIANS   OF  ST.   THOMAS. 

exhibited.  They  perform  public  penance,  as  in 
the  earlier  days  of  the  Church,  give  abundantly 
of  their  means  to  religion,  practise  evangelical 
charity,  and,  at  least  in  the  interior,  maintain  a 
great  purity  of  manners.  The  young  girls  are 
always  dowered  either  by  the  community  or  the 
church.  Their  government  is  that  of  a  tribu- 
tary republic,  or  rather  a  theocratic  democracy. 
Formerly  they  constituted  a  high  caste.  The 
jewellers,  metal-workers,  and  carpenters  appealed 
to  them  as  their  natural  protectors.  They  alone 
shared  with  the  Brahmins  and  Jews  the  privi- 
lege of  travelling  on  elephants.  They  live  by 
agriculture  and  fishery.  Many  are  dealers  in 
cocoa,  spices,  and  the  like.  The  Zamorin  or 
ruler  of  the  country  esteems  them  highly  for 
their  bravery,  intelligence,  and  sprightly  char- 
acter. The  very  ancient  Peramal  dynasty  of 
Malabar  caused  the  privileges  of  the  Christians 
of  St.  Thomas  to  be  engraved  on  six  bronze 
tablets,  which  were  shown  at  the  famous  synod 
of  Diamper.  Later  they  were  lost  by  fault  of 
the  Portuguese,  only  to  be  rediscovered  in  1807 
after  the  capture  of  Cochin.  They  are  now 
kept  at  Cottayam,  but  copies  of  them  are  in 
the  University  Library  of  Cambridge. 

The  sad  but  charming  story  of  the  Malabar 


THE  CHRISTIANS  OF  ST.    THOMAS.  229 

Christians  is  told  in  many  books.  The  original 
documents  may  be  found  in  Assemani's  "  Bibli- 
otheca  Orientalis/'  while  the  details  of  their 
later  history  are  well  related  by  the  Carmelite 
Fathers  Vincenzo  Maria  and  Paulinus  of  St. 
Barthelemy,  as  well  as  by  La  Croze  and  Ger- 
mann,  from  a  hostile  view-point.  Carl  Ritter 
has  collected  a  multitude  of  details  in  his  great 
geographical  work  on  Asia,  and  the  missionary 
reviews  and  bulletins  of  our  own  century  con- 
tain much  that  is  of  interest  concerning  a  Chris- 
tian people  whose  unbroken  lineage  dates  back 
to  the  time  of  Constantine  the  Great  and  the 
Council  of  Nice,  if  not  to  the  apostolic  age, 
when  the  sound  of  the  fishermen's  voices  went 
out  into  every  land. 


THE  MEDIEVAL  TEACHER.^ 

The  Younger  Pliny  tells  us  that  only  an  ar- 
tist may  criticise  the  works  of  art,  but  all  man- 
kind may  pass  judgment  on  the  lives  of  men 
who  are  friends  of  humanity.  Such  lives,  how- 
ever short,  never  melt  into  the  general  void,  but 
shed  forever  a  sweet  aroma  within  the  circle  of 
their  rememberers.  And  when  such  lives  are 
prolonged  beyond  the  patriarchal  limit  they 
serve  as  beacon  lights,  as  finger  posts,  to  all  who 
must  travel  the  same  pathway  in  the  future. 

As  I  listened  to  the  eloquent  gentlemen  who 
have  preceded  me,  and  noted  the  gains  which 
the  cause  of  popular  education  has  made  within 
the  present  century,  my  mind,  somehow,  re- 
verted to  a  not  dissimilar  situation  in  the  remote 
past,  to  the  very  dawn  of  our  modern  civiliza- 
tion. Then,  as  at  the  opening  of  this  century,  a 
world  lay  before  the  restorers  of   civilization; 

1  Discourse  delivered  at  Hartford,  Conn.,  January  25,  1897, 
on  the  occasion  of  the  celebration  of  the  eighty-sixth  anniversary 
of  the  birth  of  Dr.  Henry  Barnard,  one  of  the  founders  of  the 
common  school  system  of  the  United  States. 

230 


TEE  MEDIEVAL   TEACHER.  231 

then  a  mass  of  civil  and  religious  ruin  was 
added  to  the  obstacles  of  nature  ;  then  the  usual 
difficulties  of  State  building  were  increased  by 
the  immensity  of  the  debris  and  the  utter  raw- 
ness of  the  material  for  the  foundation  work. 
The  pioneers  of  education  in  the  United  States 
found  at  hand  Christian  character,  doctrines,  dis- 
cipline of  life,  knowledge  of  good  and  evil,  vir- 
tue and  vice,  an  educated  sense  of  justice  and  a 
respect  of  law,  ancient  and  familiar  models  to 
imitate,  and  unity  of  race  and  language.  But 
the  pioneers  of  education  in  Europe  found  none 
of  these  —  they  were  as  men  who  go  out  upon  a 
dark  and  pathless  sea  without  chart  or  compass 
or  light. 

Then,  again,  it  struck  me  that  if  ever  the  law 
of  continuity  be  true  of  institutions  in  particu- 
lar, it  is  especially  so  in  the  history  of  educa- 
tion, so  that  whatever  institution  has  been 
enabled  to  reach  the  present,  and  to  flourish 
with  promise  of  future  growth,  must  have  its 
roots  in  its  own  remote  past,  and  must  keep  in 
touch  with  the  long-tried  laws  of  its  life-history, 
if  it  would  hope  for  permanent  efficacy.  The 
present  is  ever  the  child  of  the  past,  in  human 
institutions  as  in  human  conduct.  It  may  not 
therefore  be^  amiss  to  go  back  a  few  moments  to 


232  THE  MEDIEVAL   TEACHEB. 

the  days  when  those  European  ancestors  from 
whom  we  are  all  descended  were  laying  the 
beams  of  State  and  Church,  when  they  were 
emerging  from  their  swamps  and  their  marches, 
to  take  up  the  municipal  life  of  the  Roman  provin- 
cials, and  to  transform  the  essential  paganism  of 
the  Roman  State  into  a  system  of  politico-social 
life  imbued  with  the  pure  and  vital  spirit  of 
Christianity.  Perhaps,  too,  in  celebrating  the 
history  of  a  century  of  education  it  is  not  out  of 
place  that  a  Catholic  priest  should  say  some- 
thing of  the  incomparable  educational  merits  of 
that  institution  which  has  seen  the  rise  and  fall 
of  so  many  systems  of  education,  and  which 
alone  on  earth  to-day  can  bear  trustworthy  per- 
sonal witness  to  the  history  of  human  hopes  and 
ideals  for  nigh  two  thousand  years. 

The  Christian  teacher  of  the  Middle  Ages! 
It  is  Boethius  and  Cassiodorus  in  Italy,  men 
who  collect  with  reverence  the  elements  of 
classic  science  and  the  principles  of  human  wis- 
dom, to  hand  them  down  to  a  time  of  wider 
peace  and  more  varied  opportunities  —  Roman 
men  of  the  best  classic  type,  from  that  Italy 
in  which  the  lamp  of  scholarship  never  went 
utterly  out,  and  in  which  the  system  of  schools 
was  never  quite  suspended.     It  is   Isidore   of 


THE  MEDIEVAL   TEACHER,  233 

Seville  in  Spain,  the  great  Bede  and  Alcuin  in 
England,  Colchu  and  Dicuil  in  Ireland.  Their 
knowledge  was  what  we  now  call  encyclopaedic, 
and  such,  too,  was  their  method.  They  affected 
the  manual  and  the  cultivation  of  the  memory, 
—  but  we  must  remember  that  they  were  deal- 
ing with  races  young  in  culture,  physically  vig- 
orous, and  strongly  attracted  to  a  manifold 
external  activity ;  also  that  they  lived  in  an 
iron  age  of  change  and  war,  and  that  no  mean 
of  political  stability  had  yet  been  reached 
around  them. 

So  they  opened  their  little  schools,  sometimes 
in  the  palace  of  king  or  count,  oftener  in  the 
cathedral-close  or  the  cloister  of  the  abbey. 
Municipal  life  and  civil  architecture  were  yet  in 
embryo  —  peace,  and  books,  and  rewards,  and  a 
logical  career  were  as  yet  furnished  by  the 
Church  alone.  Often,  too,  they  were  clerics, 
and  they  taught  on  feasts  and  holy  days  a  divine 
learning,  the  complement  and  sanction  of  their 
rudiments  of  human  science.  On  such  occasions 
they  had  for  scholars  the  rude  lords  of  the  soil 
and  the  slow  tillers  thereof,  coarse  men-at-arms, 
who  were  charmed  with  the  teacher's  high  views 
of  history  and  human  society,  his  varied 
learning  and  his  skill  in  speech. 


234  THE  MEDIEVAL   TEACHER, 

Such  a  teacher  knew  Latin  well,  and  some- 
times Greek.  He  was  skilled  in  the  chm-ch- 
song.  And  so  he  trained  the  little  choristers 
and  the  youthful  clerics  in  the  history  and  litera- 
ture of  the  world's  mightiest  State,  and  he  fitted 
them  to  hold  the  highest  offices  in  the  powerful 
ecclesiastical  society  that  enclosed  and  protected 
on  all  sides  the  growing  body  of  mediaeval  States. 
His  students  w^ere  legion,  for  progress  and  cul- 
ture were  then  synonymous  with  the  churches 
and  monasteries  that  were  springing  up  in  every 
Christian  State  of  Europe.  He  taught  arithmetic 
and  geometry,  which  latter  included  the  elements 
of  mechanics  and  architecture,  sculpture,  and 
painting.  Astronomy,  too,  was  to  be  had  in  his 
school,  and  all  such  mathematical  knowledge 
as  was  needed  for  ecclesiastical  purposes.  The 
study  of  grammar  meant  a  liberal  education  in 
the  classic  texts  used,  for  by  grammar  was  meant 
an  all-sided  interpretation  of  them.  With  it 
went  the  study  of  music,  no  small  element  in 
th^  gradual  softening  of  domestic  manners;  and 
the  development  of  mediaeval  art.  Dialectic, 
or  the  art  of  correct  thought,  and  rhetoric,  or 
that  of  ornate  and  persuasive  speech  for  the 
public  good,  were  favorite  studies  —  indeed,  all 
these  branches  made  up  the  seven  liberal  arts, 


THE  MEDIEVAL  TEACHER,  235 

or  the  perfect  cycle  of  education  as  the  Middle 
Ages  understood  it,  and  loved  to  symbolize  it 
in  its  miniatured  manuscripts,  on  the  sculptured 
portals  of  its  cathedrals,  or  the  carved  bases  of 
its  pulpits. 

The  inseparable  text-book  of  the  mediaeval 
teacher  was  Vergil,  and  his  majestic  Latin  the 
highest  scientific  ideal.  Yet  by  the  devotion  to 
Vergil  he  prepared  the  ground  for  the  blossoming 
of  the  vernacular  tongues,  whose  first  great  mas- 
ters had  learned  from  the  Latin  classics  the 
adorable  art  of  correct*  and  pleasing  speech. 
What  a  distance  between  the  jabbering  bar- 
barians whom  St.  Gall  met  at  Constanz  and  the 
author  of  the  "  Nibelungen  Lied  "  or  the  "  Chan- 
son de  Roland  "  !  In  the  five  or  six  centuries  of 
classic  formation  that  intervenes,  somebody  has 
taught  these  men  the  highest  architectonic  of 
literature.  It  was  the  mediaeval  teacher  with 
his  Vergil  and  his  Bible,  his  childlike  faith  and 
his  true  artistic  sense.  If  we  could  doubt  it,  the 
witness  of  Dante  would  be  there  to  convince  us, 
for  to  that  crowning  glory  of  mediaeval  teaching 
Vergil  is  ever  the  "  Maestro  e  Duca,"  the  "  dolce 
pedagogo  "  from  whom  he  has  taken 

"  lo  bello  stile  che  m'ha  f atto  onore." 

Civil  society  was  also  the   debtor  of   such  a 


236  THE  MEDIEVAL   TEACHER. 

teacher.  It  was  he  who  preserved  the  text  and 
the  intelligence  of  the  Civil  Law  of  Rome,  as 
confirmed  in  the  Code  of  Justinian,  and  he 
helped  to  amalgamate  with  it  the  rude  customs 
and  precedents  of  the  wandering  tribes  that  had 
squatted  on  the  imperial  soil.  He  taught  the 
fingers  of  Frank  and  Gothic  soldiers  how  to 
form  letters,  and  he  taught  their  children  how 
to  draw  up  the  necessary  formulas  for  the  con- 
duct of  public  and  private  interests  —  charters, 
laws,  wills,  contracts,  privileges,  and  the  like. 

Nor  was  he  ashamed  to  handle  the  imple- 
ments of  the  fine  arts,  like  a  St.  Eloi  and  a 
Bernward  of  Hildesheim,  and  to  fashion  count- 
less objects  that  translated  into  material  form 
the  ideal  beauty  which  haunts  forever,  though 
forever  unattained,  the  heart  of  man.  Even  the 
domestic  arts  —  agriculture,  fishery,  road  and 
canal  making,  irrigation  —  all  the  humble  arts 
that  bring  men  closer  together,  and  develop  the 
social  instinct,  and  enable  men  to  dominate  the 
pitiless  grinding  forces  of  nature,  were  taught 
the  people  by  these  men,  as  endless  references 
in  the  mediaeval  annals  show,  from  the  Orkneys 
to  the  Black  Sea. 

It  is  the  glory  of  the  Old  Church  that  these 
teachers  were  her  priests  and  her  monks,  and 


THE  MEDIEVAL   TEACHEB,  237 

that  in  every  land  she  cherished  them  by  her 
councils  and  by  her  endowments.  If  she  had 
nothing  else  to  be  proud  of,  that  would  be  much 
indeed.  It  w^as  said  of  Melanchthon,  and  before 
him  of  good  old  Jacob  Wimpheling,  that  he  was 
"  Praeceptor  Germanic."  It  might  be  said  with 
greater  truth  and  wider  application  that  the  Old 
Church  was  "  Praeceptor  totius  Occidentis,"  the 
universal  teacher  of  Europe  from  the  Vistula  to 
the  Scheld,  from  Otranto  to  Drontheim. 

One  might  imagine  that  in  those  troublous 
times  such  men  would  be  pardoned  had  they 
paid  little  attention  to  the  philosophy  of  educa- 
tion, to  methodology,  and  to  general  pedagogics. 
But  the  truth  is  far  otherwise.  We  have  in 
every  century  a  number  of  pedagogical  treatises 
of  a  general  or  specific  character,  on  schools  and 
teachings  in  general,  on  the  formation  of  the 
nobles  or  the  ecclesiastics,  all  of  which  breathe  the 
most  sincere  devotion  to  the  teacher'^  vocation. 
Alcuin,  Hrabanus  Maurus,  Sedulius  of  Liege,  are 
but  a  few  of  these  writers,  and  in  the  thirteenth 
century  there  is  an  entire  galaxy  of  writers  on 
pedagogics,  whose  treatises  are  far  from  despic- 
able and  are  indeed  worthy  of  veneration  when 
we  recall  the  extent  of  their  actual  influence. 
On  the  eve  of  the  Reformation  appear  the  ad- 


238  TBE  MEDIEVAL   TEACHER. 

mirable  treatises  of  Silvio  Antoniano  and  Jo- 
hannes Dominici,  two  cardinals,  of  Maphgeus 
Vegius,  JEnesiS  Sylvius  (Pius  II.),  Erasmus,  and 
Vives,  while  the  teaching  and  the  system  of  the 
Brothers  of  the  Common  Schools  in  the  Nether- 
lands and  along  the  Rhine  are  the  admiration  of 
all  the  historians  of  that  time.  At  the  same 
time  the  secondary  education  throughout  North- 
ern Europe,  notably  in  England  and  Scotland, 
had  reached  a  high  degree  of  development  quite 
independent  of  the  movement  of  the  Renais- 
sance. But  here  we  are  at  the  end  of  the  Mid- 
dle Ages;  the  vocation  of  its  teachers,  though 
not  gone,  has  changed;  the  whole  theory  of 
education  is  about  to  pass  over  into  other  hands, 
and  to  be  informed  by  a  new  spirit,  born  of  the 
circumstances  and  needs  that  followed  the  great 
religious  upheaval  and  the  shattering  of  the 
Catholic  unity. 

Still  for  a  thousand  years  the  mediaeval 
teachers  had  worked  at  the  formation  of  the 
men  and  women  of  Europe.  And  if,  in  any  art, 
one  may  turn  with  pride  to  the  masterpieces  as 
proofs  of  the  skill  and  the  training  of  the  artist, 
we  may  do  so  in  a  special  manner  in  the  art 
which  Gregory  the  Great  called  the  art  of  arts 
—  the  government  of  souls.     Great  ecclesiastics 


TBE  MEDIEVAL   TEACHEB,  239 

and  prudent  statesmen,  saints  and  bishops  and 
popes,  princes  and  kings  of  high  repute,  came 
out  of  their  schools,  as  well  as  a  brave  and 
patient  people,  artistically  endowed,  lovers  of 
poetry  and  art  and  all  the  higher  graces  of  the 
mind,  dowered  with  strong  faith,  and  accus- 
tomed to  bear  the  crowding  ills  of  this  life  by 
the  contemplation  of  a  better  one.  Names  rush 
to  one's  lips,  but  I  forbear  to  recite  them  — ■  I 
will  only  say  that  we  cannot  afford  to  forget  or 
neglect  any  system  of  study  by  which  the  world 
was  enriched  with  such  philosophers  and  theolo- 
gians as  St.  Thomas  and  Duns  Scotus,  such  his- 
torians as  Otto  of  Freising  and  Froissart,  such 
poets  as  Dante  and  Chaucer,  such  architects  as 
Arnulf  of  Cambrai  and  Brunelleschi,  such  states- 
men as  Suger  and  St.  Louis.  It  is  on  such  names, 
no  less  than  on  the  fabric  of  Church  and  State 
strengthened  and  developed  by  them,  that  the 
imperishable  reputation  of  the  Mediaeval  Teach- 
ers may  be  allowed  to  rest. 


THE  BOOK  OF  A  MEDIAEVAL  MOTHER. 

In  face  of  the  incredible  output  of  modern 
pedagogical  literature,  few  reflect  that  the  Mid- 
dle Ages  had  a  respectable  series  of  books  on  the 
education  of  children.  From  the  works  of  good 
old  Cassiodorus  and  Ennodius  of  Pavia  in  the 
sixth  century  down  to  the  days  of  St.  Thomas 
of  Aquino  and  St.  Bonaventure,  there  is  quite  a 
library  of  "  Instructions,"  "  Discourses,'*  "  Moni- 
tions," and  the  like ;  sometimes  addressed  to  the 
public  in  general,  sometimes  drawn  up  for  the 
formation  of  royal  youth.  The  Middle  Ages 
heard  less  talk  about  methods  of  education ; 
were  less  accessible  to  the  thousand  whims  and 
vagaries  that  get  themselves  accepted  by  igno- 
rant or  careless  municipalities,  only  to  rouse  in 
the  end  a  sense  of  disgust  and  shame.  They 
laid,  and  rightly,  more  stress  on  the  ethical 
views  of  life  —  duty,  calling,  responsibility,  right 
and  wrong;  and  were  unable  to  conceive  any 
education  that  was  not  framed  on  the  basic 
principles  of  immortality,  revelation,  and  final 

240 


THE  BOOK  OF  A  MEDIEVAL  MOTHER.      241 

judgment.  This  world  was  God's  footstool,  and 
the  generations  of  mankind  were  His  beloved 
children  journeying  ever  to  a  condition  of  end- 
less joy,  of  perfect  and  enduring  love. 

So  the  Middle  Ages  educated  first  the  heart  of 
man.  For  this  they  had  many  pedagogical  in- 
struments—  the  moulding  power  of  personality 
and  example  instead  of  a  feeble  bureaucratic 
imperialism  of  text-books'  and  manuals,  the 
chastening  action  of  great  penances  and  of  sub- 
lime renouncements.  They  had,  too,  the  assidu- 
ous reading  of  the  Scriptures,  at  least  in  the 
venerable  and  familiar  Latin  of  the  Vulgate. 
They  had  the  "Lives  of  the  Saints" — -a  celes- 
tial pedagogy  for  every  class  and  calling.  They 
had  the  rules  of  monastic  orders  and  brother- 
hoods, the  monuments  that  an  all-transforming 
faith  incessantly  uplifted  in  every  Christian  land 
—  churches,  cathedrals,  monasteries,  with  all  the 
lovely  handicraft  that  educated  eye  and  hand, 
heart  and  brain.  They  had  the  educating  con- 
troversies of  the  empire  and  the  priesthood,  with 
their  extensive  literature  ;  they  had  the  wars  of 
the  Crusades  with  their  expansive  influences; 
the  luxurious  wild  growth  of  the  vernacular 
tongues ;  the  powerful  compressive  action  of  the 
Latin  tongue  beneficial  to  thought  and  expres- 


242       THE  BOOK  OF  A  MEDIEVAL  MOTHER, 

sion.  Heresy,  Islam,  the  missions,  kept  open 
and  active  the  minds  of  the  men  of  the  West. 

We  must  not  imagine  that  thinkers  hke 
Albertns  Magnus,  Roger  Bacon,  and  Raymund 
Luhus  were  so  very  rare  merely  because  their 
names  or  their  lucubrations  have  not  reached  us. 
"  All  literature,"  says  Goethe,  "  is  only  a  frag- 
ment of  fragments."  We  know  now  that  the 
Roman  schools  of  Northern  Italy  and  Southern 
France  never  quite  interrupted  their  traditions 
of  teaching,  either  in  curriculum  or  method ; 
that  the  Irish  teachers  of  the  eighth  and  ninth 
centuries  were  the  saving  bridge  of  several 
secular  sciences ;  that  the  monasteries  sheltered 
scholars,  sciences,  books  —  above  all  the  spirit 
and  passion  of  learning,  the  holy  root  from 
which  knowledge  springs  eternal.  Who  created 
that  positively  new  thing  in  education  —  the 
University  —  but  the  priests,  students,  abbots, 
and  bishops  of  the  twelfth  and  thirteenth  cen- 
turies, quite  in  keeping  with  the  Zeitgeist? 

One  of  the  most  curious  pedagogical  monu- 
ments of  the  Middle  Ages  is  the  "  Liber  Manua- 
lis,"  the  work  of  a  woman  —  Dodana,  Duchess 
of  Septimania  (Southern  France),  in  the  ninth 
century.  Not  that  the  women  of  that  century 
were   unable   to   read   and   write  —  at   least    a 


THE  BOOK  OF  A  MEDIEVAL  MOTH^B.      243 

number  of  the  more  distinguished  in  society, 
and  all  those  who  lived  in  the  numerous  monas- 
teries or  were  sent  there  for  a  better  training. 
Whoever  has  read  '^  Ekkehard,"  the  beautiful 
historical  romance  of  Scheffel,  knows  the  wide 
field  of  woman's  activity  at  this  time.  The 
genial  and  contemporary  chronicler,  Einhard, 
has  left  us  a  pen-picture  of  the  education  of  the 
daughters  of  Charlemagne,  that  must  have  been 
true  of  many  other  women,  noble  and  plebeian. 

It  was  long  thought  that  Dodana  was  a 
daughter  of  Charlemagne ;  but  recent  researches 
of  Leopold  Delisle,  the  eminent  mediaevalist, 
leave  little  doubt  of  the  falsity  of  this  opinion. 
In  any  case,  she  was  a  lady  of  high  birth ;  for 
in  824  she  was  married,  in  the  imperial  palace 
at  Aix-la-Chapelle,  to  Bernard,  the  young  Duke 
of  Aquitania  and  Septimania  and  Count  of 
Barcelona,  son  of  William  of  Gellone,  one  of 
the  great  warriors  of  Charlemagne — another 
Charles  the  Hammer,  who  cleared  the  Riviera  of 
Arabs,  fixed  his  standard  in  their  city  of  Barce- 
lona, and  died  a  Benedictine  and  a  saint.  He 
enjoys  the  additional  later  glory  of  a  vast  epic 
"  Chanson  de  Geste,"  written  in  honor  of  '^  Guil- 
laume  au  court  nez." 

From  the  union  of  his  son  Bernard  and  the 


244       THE  BOOK  OF  A  MEBIJEVAL  MOTREB, 

Lady  Dodana  was  born  another  William,  whom 
the  fates  of  war  and  diplomacy  kept  a  hostage 
at  the  court  of  Charles  the  Bald  after  the  bloody 
battle  of  Fontanet  (841),  as  a  gage  of  the  fidelity 
of  his  great  Southern  vassal.  In  the  same  year 
another  son  was  born  to  Dodana,  whom  the 
father  bore  away  to  Barcelona,  leaving  the 
mother  in  charge  of  his  city  of  Uzes.  He  had 
never  treated  her  as  a  Christian  husband;  the 
charms  of  the  beautiful  and  ambitious  violinist 
Judith,  second  wife  of  Louis  the  Pious,  had  long 
drawn  him  to  her  side,  until  the  oppressions  and 
scandals  of  their  government  grew  intolerable, 
and  Bernard  was  compelled  to  fly  to  his  Proven- 
gal  strongholds,  there  to  wait  the  outcome  of  the 
fratricidal  struggle  of  the  children  of  Louis, 
which  opens  and  conditions  the  mediaeval  life  of 
France  and  Germany. 

It  is  to  her  eldest  son,  William,  that  Dodana 
writes,  or  rather  dictates,  by  the  hand  of  her 
scribe  Vislabert,  the  little  book  just  mentioned. 
Its  composition  occupied  her  for  more  than  a 
year.  It  is  exactly  dated  —  a  rare  thing  for 
mediaeval  books;  she  began  it  on  the  Feast  of 
St.  Andrew,  November  30,  in  841,  and  ended  it 
on  the  Feast  of  the  Purification,  February  2,  in 
843.     We  hear,  therefore,  in  her  pages  the  voice 


THE  BOOK  OF  A  MEDIEVAL  MOTHER.      245 

of  a  Carlo vingian  mother  across  one  thousand 
years  of  history.  The  manuscript  was  known 
to  Bakize,  Pierre  de  Marca,  D'Achery,  and  Mabil- 
lon,  but  has  been  fully  published  only  in  our 
own  day.^ 

The  young  hostage  at  Aix-la-Chapelle  had  left 
a  great  void  in  the  mother-heart  of  Dodana. 
With  unusual  courage  she  will  ease  the  aching  by 
writing  a  book  to  her  dear  son.  And  the  writ- 
ing becomes  a  sweet  daily  task,  a  kind  of  journal 
intime,  that  acts  as  a  strong  searchlight  over  the 
manners  and  consciences  of  ninth-century  Chris- 
tians of  the  class  and  type  of  Dodana.  She 
writes :  — 

"  Men  know  many  things  that  are  foreign  to  me,  and  to  other 
•women  like  me  —  but  to  me  more  than  the  others.  Still,  He 
is  always  present  to  me  who  can  open  the  mouth  of  the  dumb 
andmakeeloquent  the  tongue  of  childhood.  .  .  .  Therefore  my 
son,  I  send  you  this  discourse,  or  manual  [sermo  manualis] ,  that 
it  may  be  like  one  of  those  splendid  chess-boards  that  recreate 
young  men ;  or  like  one  of  those  mirrors  in  which  women  love 
to  gaze  that  they  may  compose  their  features  and  be  pleasing 
to  their  husbands.  Thus,  my  son,  you  shall  use  this  book.  It 
is  a  mirror  in  which  you  may  see  the  image  of  your  soul,  not  to 
please  the  world,  but  to  please  Him  who  created  you  out  of  noth- 
ing. Indeed,  I  am  deeply  concerned  for  you,  O  my  son  Will- 
iam !  My  soul  is  forever  consumed  with  the  desire  of  your 
salvation.    In  that  hope  I  write  you  these  pages." 

1  "L'Education  Carlovingienne,  le  Manuel  de  Duodha,"  6dit^ 
par  E.  Bondurand  (Paris,  Picard,  1887,  8vo,  pp.  271).  The  name 
is  variously  spelled  :  Duodha,  Dhuodana,  Duodana,  Dodana. 


246       THE  BOOK  OF  A  MEDIAEVAL  MOTHER. 

She  might  well  be  anxious ;  for  though  saints 
like  Arnulf  of  Metz  and  Wandrille  of  Fontanelle 
came  out  of  the  court,  its  atmosphere  was  cor- 
rupting. The  battle-horse  and  gleaming  sword, 
the  rank  of  count  and  fair  lands  to  govern,  were 
the  great  prizes  of  service  with  the  Karlings  as 
elsewhere;  but  the  earlier  pages  of  Gregory  of 
Tours  and  the  annals  of  the  time  show  that  the 
passions  of  men  were  little,  if  any,  different  from 
those  of  earlier  and  later  days.  A  pretty  acros- 
tic that  forms  her  own  name  opens  the  book  into 
which  she  has  breathed  all  her  noble  heart  — 
it  is  an  invocation  to  God  that  He  may  protect 
her  son  William,  for  whom  her  heart  is  torn  with 
anguish.  Then  come  seventy-three  chapters, 
curiously  short  and  long,  like  the  broken  cries  of 
sorrow  and  the  tender  gossip  of  love — the  out- 
pourings of  the  illimitable  sea  of  a  mother's 
affection.  She  converses  with  him  on  the  love 
of  God,  the  greatness  of  God,  all  the  attributes 
of  the  Divinity;  on  the  Trinity  —  a  touch  of 
those  transitional  ages  in  which  there  echoed 
yet  some  sounds  of  the  great  christological 
struggles.  She  recalls  to  him  the  virtues  of 
faith,  hope,  and  charity;  the  duty  and  manner 
of  prayer;  his  obligations  to  his  superiors, 
his  neighbors,  the  priests  and  the  teachers  who 


THE  BOOK  OF  A  MEBIMVAL  MOTHEB.      247 

have  charge  of  him.  Had  Ruskin  known  this 
little  manual,  he  would  surely  have  quoted 
from  it  in  his  "Pleasures  of  (Mediaeval)  Eng- 
land." 

Conduct  is  based  on  faith ;  hence  the  rest  of 
the  work  is  taken  up  with  the  moral  duties  of 
the  young  man :  the  trials  of  life  and  how  to 
surmount  them.  Sorrow,  persecution,  disap- 
pointment, sickness,  will  come,  and  who  will 
shelter  his  bruised  and  torn  heart  ?  He  must 
become  a  perfect  man ;  he  must  preserve  himself 
spotless.  Already  the  Christian  ideas  which 
gave  rise  to  the  character  of  the  chevalier  and 
the  gentleman  crop  out  even  in  the  intimate 
communings  of  a  saintly  mother.  The  little 
book  is  full  of  unctuous  prayers  and  ejaculations 
that  she  would  have  him  utter  often  for  his 
prince,  the  Church,  his  father,  for  the  dead,  for 
"  the  very  good  and  the  not  very  good  "  ;  among 
other  things,  pro  versis  et  litteris  comjyositis  tuis 
—  "for  your  verses  and  literary  compositions." 
Perhaps  the  young  William  already  handled  the 
lance  and  'the  "  framea,"  or  short  sword  of  the 
Franks,  with  more  skill  than  the  "  calamus "  of 
the  monk. 

From  this  noble  mother  the  young  page  of 
kingly  race,  destined  to  inherit  those  corners  of 


248       THE  BOOK  OF  A  MEDIEVAL  MOTHER. 

France  and  Spain  that  have  never  long  coalesced 
since  their  first  disruption  from  the  empire  by 
the  Visigoths,  learned  that  there  is  a  higher 
authority  than  man ;  that  riches  and  power  are 
nothing  in  His  eyes ;  and  that  the  saints  of  the 
family  are  the  ones  to  imitate,  not  the  turbulent 
warriors,  —  his  grandfather  the  venerable  Will- 
iam, rather  than  his  father  the  worldly  Bernard. 
Withal,  she  repeats  often  the  lesson  of  love,  re- 
spect, and  loyalty  to  his  father,  who  is  always 
her  good  lord  and  spouse.  "  In  all  things  obey 
him ;  be  the  prop  of  his  old  age,  if  so  be  that  he 
reach  old  age.  Cause  him  no  sorrow  while  he 
lives ;  despise  him  not  when  you,  too,  become  a 
great  and  powerful  man."  This  "  work  of  her 
weakness  "  —  opusculum  2^ciTmtatis  mem  —  is  all 
one  cry  of  tender  affection ;  willingly  does  Do- 
dana  efface  herself,  and  liken  herself  to  the 
humble  woman  of  Chanaan,  seeking  only  the 
crumbs  that  fall  from  the  table  of  wisdom,  and 
seeking  them  for  her  beloved  son. 

Charles  the  Bald  was  no  great  or  amiable 
character.  Yet  Dodana  would  have  her  William 
be  mindful  of  his  own  nobility  —  his  magna 
utrinque  nobilitas  —  and  be  no  lip-server,  but  a 
man  of  heart,  the  king's  stainless  liegeman,  in- 
capable of  the  intrigues  that  disgraced  the  family 


THE  BOOK  OF  A  MEDIEVAL   MOTHER.      249 

of  the  Karlings  since  the  death  of  the   great 
emperor. 

The  pages  devoted  to  the  Church  and  the 
priests  are  worthy  of  the  faith  of  Dodana :  — 

"  The  priests  are  the  successors  of  the  apostles,  with  power  to 
loose  and  to  bind.  Their  task  is  to  ravish  its  prey  from  the 
unclean  spirit,  and  to  restore  it  purified  to  its  heavenly  destiny. 
They  care  and  provide  for  the  altar  that  stands  hard  by  their 
dwelling.  They  are  the  guardians  of  the  sacred  vessels  of  God 
which  we  call  souls.  The  lips  of  the  priest  are  the  repository 
of  knowledge ;  we  seek  the  law  from  him,  for  he  is  the  angel  of 
the  Lord.  Like  watchful  doves,  the  priests  direct  their  flight 
to  the  windows  of  heaven,  and  thus  deserve  the  name  of  friends 
of  God.  Honor,  therefore,  all  good  priests  ;  listen  to  them  ;  and 
when  you  meet  them  kneel  not  alone  before  them,  but  before 
the  angels  who  precede  them.  Receive  often  at  your  table  the 
priests  of  God,  together  with  the  pilgrims  and  the  poor.  Let 
them  be  your  advisers,  the  ministers  of  your  bounty,  which  will 
be  one  day  multiplied  to  you.  .  .  .  Confess  often  to  them  in  se- 
cret, with  sighs  and  tears ;  for,  as  the  doctors  teach  us,  true 
confession  freeth  the  soul  from  death.  .  .  .  Beseech  them  to  pray 
for  you,  and  to  intercede  with  God  who  hath  made  them  the 
intercessors  of  His  people." 

More  than  once  Dodana  borrows  from  natural 
history  comparisons  that  are  apt  and  moving, 
even  if  the  facts  be  as  far-fetched  as  they  are 
betimes  in  the  pages  of  St.  Francis  of  Sales  or 
Rodriguez.  The  duty  of  mutual  help  Dodana 
deduces  from  the  example  of  the  deer  that  lean 
on  one  another,  turn  and  turn  about,  when  cross- 
ing broad  and  dangerous  rivers.  She  would 
have  William  read  often  the  choicest  books  of 


250  THE  BOOK  OF  A  MEDIEVAL  MOTHER, 

the  Fathers;  he  will  then  be  like  those  doves 
who  have  drunk  from  crystal  waters,  and  thereby 
acquired  a.  sharpened  vision  against  the  hawk 
and  the  vulture. 

Cruel  domestic  experience  and  the  mother- 
instinct  tell  her  that  the  life  of  courts  and  pal- 
aces is  a  perpetual  snare  for  youthful  virtue. 
She  knows  only  one  remedy  —  prayer  —  the 
remedy  of  Christ  and  the  saints.  So  the  pages 
of  her  little  book  are  made  sweet  with  many 
unctuous  prayers,  most  frequently  taken  from 
the  public  prayer  of  the  Church,  the  canonical 
hours.  Thus,  unconsciously,  she  reveals  to  us  a 
side  of  Catholic  life  that  Dom  Gueranger  has  so 
often  admirably  illustrated  in  his  "Liturgical 
Year  "  —  the  powerful  influence  that  the  daily 
official  services  of  Catholicism  exercised  on  the 
whole  society  of  the  Middle  Ages,  creating  vo- 
cabularies, literatures,  poetry,  arts,  music ;  in- 
terpenetrating and  spiritualizing  the  whole 
mediaeval   man. 

This  admirable  "Handbook"  of  a  mother 
ends,  like  a  last  will  and  testament,  in  tears 
and  benedictions,  with  recommendations  of  her 
many  dear  departed  —  a  whole  necrology  such 
as  is  often  met  with  in  the  contemporary 
"confraternities  of  prayers."     In  her  blessings 


THE  BOOK  OF  A  MEDIEVAL  MOTHER.      251 

it  has  been  well  said  ^  that  she  is  like  an  ancient 
priestess  perforiAing  with  all  solemnity  the 
ritual  of   her  domestic  hearth  — 

"  My  son,  God  give  thee  the  dew  of  heaven  and  the  fat  of  the 
earth.     Amen. 

"  May  He  vouchsafe  thee  abundance  of  oil,  wine,  and  wheat. 
Amen. 

"  May  He  be  thy  buckler  against  all  enemies.     Amen. 

"Be  thou  blessed  in  the  town,  in  the  country,  at  the  court; 
blessed  with  thy  father,  blessed  with  thy  brother ;  blessed  with 
the  great,  blessed  with  the  little ;  blessed  with  the  chaste,  blessed 
with  the  sober ;  blessed  be  thy  old  age,  blessed  be  thy  youth, 
even  to  that  day  when,  hero  of  many  combats,  thou  shalt  set 
foot  in  the  kingdom  of  the  soul.     Amen." 

In  a  closing  effusion  she  recommends  her  son, 
now  sixteen  years  of  age,  to  master  this  wise 
advice,  and  to  break  it  betimes,  like  food,  to  her 
other  dear  son,  whose  name  she  does  not  know ; 
for  the  father  had  taken  him  away  hastily  before 
baptism.  She  feels  that  her  days  are  drawing 
to  an  end.  Lonely  chatelaine  on  the  terraces  of 
Uzes !  She  has  much  to  do  to  cope  with  the 
creditors  of  her  husband,  among  whom  are  some 
Jews.  Grief  and  pain  have  reduced  her  bodily 
strength.  She  will  not  see  the  flourishing  of 
youth  in  her  second  boy.  In  an  acrostic  that 
spells  the  name  of  her  beloved  William  she 
reminds  him  that  this  journal  —  for  such  it  is  — 

1  Mgr.  Baunard,  "ReUques  d'Histoire"  (Paris,  1899),  p.  61. 


252       THE  BOOK  OF  A  MEDIEVAL  MOTHER. 

was  finished  on  his  sixteenth  birthday  (Novem- 
bei:  30,  842),  the  Feast  of  St.  Andrew,  "  near  the 
time  of  the  coming  of  the  Word." 

In  a  codicil  she  comes  back  upon  the  "  sweet- 
ness of  her  too  great  love,  and  the  sorrow  she  has 
at  not  being  able  to  gaze  upon  his  beauty."  She 
begs  him  to  have  pity  upon  her  soul,  and  urges 
upon  him,  in  terms  of  exquisite  pathos  and  ten- 
derness, the  duty  of  praying  for  her  eternal  weal. 
Finally,  she  beseeches  him  to  put  down  her 
name  on  the  family  necrology,  among  the  Guil- 
hems,  the  Cunegondas,  the  Withbergas,  the 
Gaucelin^,  the  Heriberts,  the  Rodlindas,  the  Ger- 
bergas  —  noble  dames  and  lords  of  her  great 
family.  For  her  tomb  she  dictates  the  epitaph 
to  her  scribe  Yislabert  —  "that  all  who  visit 
it  may  pray  for  the  humble  Dodana,  whose  body 
made  of  earth  has  returned  to  the  same." 

Artless,  broken  in  style,  overlapping,  without 
literary  order  or  ornament,  the  Book  of  Dodana, 
nevertheless,  appeals  to  every  heart,  especially 
to  that  multitude  of  men  and  women  of  a  later 
day  to  whom  the  habit  of  introspection  has 
become  a  second  nature.  This  is  the  journal  of 
a  soul  —  but  not  of  a  soul  that  has  cast  its 
moorings,  like  Amiel,  and  gotten  out  on  the 
turbulent   sea  of  doubt,  amid   incessant   storm 


THE  BOOK  OF  A  MEDIJEVAL  MOTHEB.      253 

and  lightning,  relieved  only  by  depressing  calms 
and  mists.  It  is  the  joiu-nal  of  a  saintly  soul,  the 
colloquy  of  a  Christian  mother  with  her  son;  of  a 
woman  fit  to  be  the  ancestress  of  the  Blanches 
and  the  Elizabeths  of  another  century;  close 
spiritual  kin  to  women  like  Madam  Craven  and 
Eugenie  de  Guerin.  She  knows  the  Scriptures 
and  cites  them  with  ease;  some  smattering  of 
erudition  graces  her  paragraphs ;  her  Latin,  per- 
haps corrected  by  the  scribe,  is  rude  indeed,  but 
terse,  clear,  and  direct,  with  flashes  of  brilliancy. 
The  sorrows  of  her  race  did  not  cease  with 
her  death.  Bernard,  her  wayward  husband  and 
son  of  the  saintly  Guilhem,  was  beheaded  for  re- 
bellion in  the  year  844.  We  do  not  know  that  she 
survived  him.  Her  beloved  William,  for  whom 
alone  this  mediaeval  Monica  walked  our  valley  of 
tears,  was  captured  at  the  siege  of  Barcelona  in 
850  and  put  to  death.  The  second  son,  baptized 
Bernard,  lived  only  to  take  vengeance  on  Charles 
the  Bald ;  after  fruitless  attempts,  he  perished  in 
a  skirmish  in  872.  The  strong  lives  of  both  are 
now  forgotten,  save  by  the  toilsome  chronicler  of 
dates  and  names.  But  the  pages  of  their  moth- 
er's "Handbook,"  wet  with  her  tears  and  aro- 
matic with  her  virtues,  have  drifted  down  from 
age  to  age,  and  are  likely  to  edify  in  the  centu- 


254  THE  BOOK  OF  A  MEDIEVAL  MOTHER. 

ries  to  come  many  a  similar  heart,  whether  it 
beats  upon  a  throne  or  beneath  the  roof  of  some 
humble  cottage.  Love  is  strong,  and  death  is 
strong ;  but  a  mother's  love,  like  Rizpah,  defies 
time  and  the  elements,  being  a  godlike  thing. 


GERMAN  SCHOOLS  IN  XVI.  CENTURY. 

The  latter  half  of  the  fifteenth  century  was  m 
many  respects  the  acme  of  the  intellectnal  life 
of  Germany.  The  native  or  acquired  tenden- 
cies that  had  long  found  a  manifold  expression 
in  architecture  and  the  fine  arts,  in  song  and 
music  and  the  drama,  in  the  refinement  of  man- 
ners, seemed  at  this  moment  to  flower  into  a 
newer  and  a  higher  life.  The  invention  of 
printing,  the  discovery  of  the  New  World,  the 
liberalizing  influences  of  the  Italian  Renaissance, 
the  fall  of  Constantinople,  the  creation  of  new 
universities,  the  rivalry  of  the  new  States  now 
rising  from  the  hopeless  wreck  of  the  mediaeval 
imperial  idea,  the  ecclesiastical  unity  won  back 
after  long  decades  of  disruption,  incessant 
travel,  the  growth  of  the  commercial  spirit  and 
system,  contributed,  each  in  its  own  measure,  to 
that  wondrous  development  of  German  culture, 
wealth,  and  enterprise  which  so  excited  the 
admiration  of  ^neas  Sylvius,-^  and  worthily 
crowned  the   first   thousand   years   of   German 

1  De  situ,  moribus  et  conditione  Germanise,  Basilese,  1551. 

255 


256        GERMAN  SCHOOLS  IN  XVI.    CENTURY. 

Christianity.  The  spirit  which  cast  out  from 
Spain  the  Arab  and  the  Jew,  which  worked 
the  unification  of  all  French  interests  in  the 
hands  of  an  absolute  king,  and  opened  up  for 
Italy  her  first  clear  vista  upon  the  long-gone, 
glorious  days  of  universal  empire,  brought  about 
in  Germany  a  development  of  popular  education 
such  as  had  yet  been  witnessed  in  no  European 
State.  The  flourishing  condition  of  the  univer- 
sities of  Germany,  notably  of  Cologne,  Heidel- 
berg, Freiburg,  Basel,  TUbingen,  Ingolstadt, 
and  Vienna  —  the  highest  outgrowth  of  this 
movement  —  is  a  proof  of  its  intensity  and  uni- 
versality. Nor  was  the  thirst  for  learning  con- 
fined to  any  particular  class.  The  village  schools 
were  numerous  and  well-frequented ;  the  teachers 
were  well  paid,  contented,  and  highly  esteemed  ; 
the  discipline  of  youth  was  strict  but  loving; 
the  homiletic  teaching  of  the  clergy  attracted 
great  numbers ;  and  the  new-found  art  of  print- 
ing spread  abroad  on  all  sides  the  elements  of 
religious  instruction —  pictorial  catechisms,  hymn- 
books,  manuals  of  confession  and  a  holy  death, 
expositions  of  the  commandments,  and  brief  com- 
mentaries on  Holy  Writ.  But  it  was  especially 
in  secondary  instruction  that  the  best  results  of 
tke  older  and  healthier,  more  Christian,  human- 


GERMAN  SCHOOLS  IN  XVI.    CENTURY.         257 

ism  had  been  obtained.  Throughout  Germany, 
especially  in  Westphalia  and  the  Rhenish  lands, 
public  secondary  schools  abounded.  The  city 
fathers  multiplied  them;  beneficent  citizens  es- 
tablished new  ones  by  will  or  aided  by  legacies 
those  already  in  existence;  dwelling  houses 
under  the  care  of  devoted  and  experienced  men 
were  opened  for  the  students ;  libraries  were 
built  and  increased  —  in  a  word,  the  unity  of 
the  ideals  and  interests  of  the  Fatherland 
seemed  to  find  nowhere  a  better  background 
for  its  illustration  than  the  cause  of  education. 
The  Brothers  of  the  Common  Life  at  Deventer, 
Zwolle,  Louvain,  Liege,  and  other  places,  showed 
the  world  for  the  first  time  a  corporation  of 
great  scholars  devoted  solely  to  the  holy  art  of 
teaching.  Nor  could  any  country  boast  of  bet- 
ter specimens  of  the  erudite  and  gentlemanly 
tutor  or  master  than  Alexander  Hegius,  John 
Cochloeus,  Murmellius,  and  Jacob  Wimpheling, 
the  ^^  Educator  of  Germany."  Such  men  were 
the  trainers  of  those  who  conducted  the  numer- 
ous monastic,  capitular,  municipal,  and  private 
schools,  and  from  them  went  out  a  generation 
of  refined  and  skilful  teachers,  who  made  the 
schools  of  Germany  famous  throughout  all 
Europe.     Women  like  Charitas  and  Clara  Pirk- 


258        GERMAN  SCHOOLS  IN  XVI.    CENTURY. 

heimer  illustrated  by  their  pedagogical  skill  sucli 
centres  of  general  culture  as  Niirnberg,  and 
honored  their  sex  and  country  by  the  practice 
of  every  virtue,  while  by  the  example  of  the 
most  cultured  and  self-sacrificing  womanhood 
they  brought  up  the  daughters  of  Germany  in 
the  admiration  of  whatever  was  pure,  noble, 
and  elevating.^ 

The  Reformation  fell  like  a  thunderbolt  upon 
this   scholastic   development.      It   shook   to  its 


1  Cf.  Janssen,  "  Geschichte  des  Deutschen  Volkes  beim  Ausgang 
des  Mittelalters"  (Freiburg,  1887, 13th  ed.),  Vol.  I.,  pp.  1-138.  Sel- 
dom, if  ever,  have  the  details  of  an  intellectual  movement  or  condition 
been  collected  with  greater  pains  or  set  forth  with  more  art  than 
here.  The  following  pages  summarize  the  treatment  of  the  intel- 
lectual condition  of  Germany  as  given  by  Janssen  and  his  literary 
heir  and  successor,  Pastor,  in  the  seventh  volume  of  the  same  work 
(Herder,  Freiburg,  1893),  for  the  century  intervening  between  the 
Reformation  and  the  Thirty  Years'  War  (1517-1618).  It  ought  to 
be  unnecessary  to  remind  our  readers  of  the  method  of  Janssen. 
The  numerous  details  for  this  particular  study  have  been  collected 
by  him  and  by  his  successor,  Pastor,  from  the  public  documents  of 
Catholics  and  Protestants  ;  from  the  histories  of  education,  univer- 
sities, colleges,  and  schools  ;  from  the  correspondence  of  teachers 
and  the  scholastic  legislation ;  from  contemporary  polemics  and 
brochures  ;  from  reports  of  nuncios  and  relations  of  ambassadors  ; 
from  the  histories  of  cities  and  monasteries,  orders,  bishoprics,  lit- 
eratures, and  the  arts ;  from  histories  of  heresies  and  morals  —  in 
a  word,  from  almost  countless  public  and  private,  edited  and  un- 
edited, sources.  The  domestic  history  of  Germany,  especially  those 
pages  Mrritten  in  the  local  historical  reviews,  annals,  collections, 
studies,  etc. ,  have  furnished  some  rare  materials,  which  have  often 
been  first  made  widely  known  through  their  incorporation  into  the 
structure  of  Janssen' s  "  History  of  the  German  People." 


GEBMAN  SCHOOLS  IN  XVI.    CENTURY.         259 

ancient  foundments  the  principle  of  authority  in 
Church,  State,  and  society,  and  it  was  no  wonder 
that  the  schools  soon  felt  the  reaction.  Who- 
ever has  watched  the  decay  of  university  life  in 
New  Italy  will  have  some  faint  idea  of  the  dis- 
asters that  overtook  the  German  schools  in  the 
sixteenth  century,  and  made  their  condition  as 
pitiable  as  it  had  once  been  admirable  and  envi- 
able. Unprofitable  and  noisy  polemics,  religious 
bickerings,  personal  hates  and  persecutions,  end- 
less territorial  revolutions  and  rectifications  of 
frontiers,  the  establishment  of  a  governmental 
control,  minutely  absolute,  in  place  of  the  an- 
cient self-regulation  and  constitutional  indepen- 
dence —  all  these  causes  cooperated  to  interrupt 
the  current  of  educational  progress  that  had  set 
in  during  the  fifteenth  century  with  the  rise  of 
a  German-Christian  humanism.  None  of  them, 
however,  exercised  so  baneful  an  influence  on 
the  schools  as  the  new  doctrine  of  justification 
by  faith  alone  and  the  consequent  depreciation 
of  good  works  as  beneficial  for  salvation.  Self- 
ish avarice  and  love  of  luxury  began  to  dispute 
for  the  control  of  that  wealth  which  the  wiser 
and  more  human-rational  ancient  faith  had 
taught  men  to  employ  for  the  common  good. 
New  foundations  ceased  to  be  made,  and  the  old 


260        GEEMAN  SCHOOLS  IK  XVI.    CENTURY, 

ones  were  confiscated  or  wretchedly  adminis- 
tered. The  large  and  kindly  love  of  Catholic 
Germans  for  the  unborn  generations,  the  gen- 
erous preparations  for  their  physical  and  intel- 
lectual welfare,  decreased  with  the  spread  of  a 
narrower,  harder  belief ;  and  the  contempt  for 
the  past  increasing  with  the  ignorance  of  its 
titles  and  its  relations  to  the  present,  a  great 
portion  of  the  German  people  lost  that  noble 
trait  of  public  generosity  which  is  everywhere 
an  outcome  of  intense  Catholic  belief.  It  shut 
itself  up  within  the  little  circle  of  its  own  imme- 
diate personal  interests,  leaving  to  the  State  or 
to  chance  the  care  of  those  general  wants  for 
which  individuals  at  one  time  provided  so  largely 
from  wealth  superfluous  or  no  longer  needful. 

Already,  in  1524,  Luther  complained  in  a 
letter  to  the  municipal  authorities  that  with  the 
old  priesthood  the  ancient  fame  of  the  German 
schools  was  disappearing.  "Under  the  popes," 
he  says,  "not  a  child  could  escape  the  devil's 
broad  nets,  barring  a  rare  wonder,  so  many  mon- 
asteries and  schools  were  there,  but  now  that 
the  priests  are  gone  good  studies  are  packed  off 
with  them.  .  .  .  When  I  was  a  child  there  was 
a  proverb  that  it  was  no  less  an  evil  to  neglect 
a  student  than  to  mislead  a  virgin.  .  .  .     This 


GERMAIN  SCHOOLS  IN  XVL    CENTURY,        261 

was  said  to  frighten  the  teachers."  He  reminds 
his  readers  that  he  has  freed  them  from  masses 
and  indulgences,  vigils  and  feasts  and  fasts,  men- 
dicant monks,  confraternities,  etc.,  but  in  return 
the  common  man  will  do  nothing  for  schools, 
and  the  princes  are  sunk  in  gluttony  and  de- 
bauchery.^ A  year  later  he  wrote  to  the  Elector 
that  there  was  now  neither  fear  of  God  nor 
Christian  discipline  since  the  pope's  power  was 
broken.  "The  devil,"  said  he,  in  a  sermon  of 
1530,  "has  misled  the  people  into  the  belief 
that  schooling  is  useless  since  the  exit  of  the 
monks,  nuns,  and  priests.  ...  As  long  as 
the  people  were  caught  in  the  abominations  of 
the  papacy,  every  purse  was  open  for  churches 
and  schools,  and  the  doors  of  these  latter  were 
widespread  for  the  free  reception  of  children  who 
could  almost  be  forced  to  receive  the  expensive 
training  given  within  their  walls."  The  local 
histories  and  city  chronicles  of  the  time  show 
the  popular  feeling  that  with  the  ancient  Cath- 
olic clergy  went  one  of  their  chief  works  and 
occupations,   the   teaching   and   control    of   the 


1  For  these  and  all  following  details,  see  in  general,  "  Geschichte 
des  Deutschen  Volkes  seit  dem  Ausgang  des  Mittelalters,"  von 
Johannes  Janssen,  erganzt  und  herausgegeben  von  Ludwig  Pastor 
(Herder,  Freiburg,  18G3),  Vol.  VII.,  pp.  1-211. 


262        GERMAN  SCHOOLS  IN  XVI.    CENTURY. 

children.  Henceforth  reading  and  writing  in 
German^  with  some  knowledge  of  figures,  were 
to  take  the  place  of  the  classics,  and  technical 
training  to  supplant  the  liberal  mental  discipline 
of  philosophy,  history,  and  the  natural  sciences. 
Even  in  Catholic  Germany  the  contempt  of 
studies  spread,  and  King  Ferdinand  felt  forced 
to  admit,  in  his  reformation  proposals  to 
the  Council  of  Trent,  that  in  all  the  German 
universities  there  were  not  in  1562  as  many 
students  as  in  the  good  old  times  frequented  a 
*  single  one.  The  official  reports  of  the  govern- 
ment VisitatoreUy  specimens  of  school  and  church 
legislation,  and  the  correspondence  of  the  super- 
intendents show  that  the  number  of  the  common 
schools  decreased  steadily  during  the  sixteenth 
century  in  the  Electorate  of  Saxony,  in  Branden- 
burg, Weimar,  Pomerania,  Brunswick,  Hesse, 
and  other  Lutheran  lands ;  that  the  instruction 
of  females  was  greatly  neglected,  and  the  form- 
ation in  the  use  of  the  native  tongue  insufficient 
and  inferior  in  quality ;  that  the  buildings  were 
often  unsuitable  for  school  purposes ;  that  the 
nobles  neglected  their  duties  as  patrons  and 
supporters  of  the  schools  within  their  districts ; 
that  the  teachers  were  frequently  common  work- 
men, tailors,  dyers,  shoemakers ;  that  the  church 


GEBMAN  SCHOOLS  IN  XVI.    CENTURY.        263 

sextons,  who  were  in  many  cases  the  village 
teachers,  gave  great  scandal  by  their  miedifying 
lives,  their  magical  and  superstitious  practices, 
treasure-hunting,  etc. 

On  the  other  hand,  it  is  evident  from  other 
sources  that  the  German  village-teacher  of  the 
sixteenth  century  had  long  ceased  to  be  the 
happy  and  prosperous  pedagogue  of  the  latter 
half  of  the  fifteenth.  His  dwelling  was  usually 
poor,  old,  and  neglected ;  his  pay  small,  and 
given  frequently  in  kind,  uncertain,  and  grudg- 
ingly accorded.  We  can,  therefore,  scarcely  won- 
der that  he  was  harsh  and  cruel  in  his  treatment 
of  the  unfortunates  committed  to  his  care,  and 
that  corporal  punishment  was  often  carried  so 
far  as  to  permanently  maim  or  lame  the  subject 
of  it,  while  it  was  no  uncommon  thing  to  beat 
children  heavily  about  the  head,  to  scourge  them 
until  the  blood  ran  freely,  and  generally  to  mal- 
treat them,  especially  if  they  were  poor,  or  un- 
fortunate orphans,  or  otherwise  abandoned  or 
unprotected.  The  results  of  the  absence  of  a 
healthful  religious  home  formation  naturally 
manifested  themselves  in  "the  conduct  of  the 
youth,  a  never-failing  source  of  complaint  on 
the  part  of  the  teachers  of  the  last  fifty  years 
of  the  sixteenth  century.     "In  this  latter  poi- 


264        GERMAN  SCHOOLS  IN  XVI.    CENTURY, 

sonous  and  pestilential  time/'  wrote,  in  1568, 
Johann  Busleb,  a  teacher  at  Eglen,  in  the  terri- 
tory of  Magdeburgj  "  every  one  complains  of  the 
coarse,  sensual,  godless,  shameless,  old-Adamic 
life  of  youth,  and  that  the  complaints  are  just, 
may  be  known  from  any  of  those  who  treat 
daily  with  the  young." 

In  spite  of  all  this,  the  sixteenth  century  was 
witness  to  the  superhuman  efforts  made  on  the 
one  hand  by  the  leaders  of  the  various  Protestant 
confessions,  and  on  the  other  by  the  Catholic 
Church,  to  elevate  the  standard  of  studies,  to 
fire  the  youth  of  Germany  with  noble  ideals,  to 
stimulate  in  them  habits  of  industry  and  a 
healthy  spirit  of  rivalry.  Among  the  Ee- 
formers,  Melanchthon  led  the  way.  His  text- 
books of  Greek  and  Latin,  his  commentaries 
and  translations,  his  academic  discourses  and 
extensive  correspondence,  above  all,  his  personal 
influence  over  a  multitude  of  disciples,  won  for 
him  the  title  of  "  Preceptor  of  Germany,"  once 
worn  with  pride  by  Wimpheling.  If  the  views 
of  Melanchthon  had  prevailed,  Greek  and  Hebrew, 
history  and  mathematics,  would  have  had  a  fair 
share  in  the  scholastic  curriculum ;  more  homely 
notions  obtained,  and  Latin  became  the  chief 
subject    of   study.     German   was    carefully   ex- 


GEBMAN  SCHOOLS  IN  XVI.    CENTUBT.        265 

eluded  from  the  better  schools  as  offensive  to 
the  literary  taste,  and  a  formal  system  of  es- 
pionage established  for  the  purpose  of  surpris- 
ing the  scholars  who  forgot  themselves  so  far 
as  to  speak  their  mother-tongue.  At  Ganders- 
heim,  in  1571,  three  slips  of  this  kind  were  set 
down  as  equal  in  heinousness  to  one  blasphemy. 
In  1524,  Luther  wrote  with  much  scorn  concern- 
ing the  schools  in  which  he  and  his  fellow- 
reformers  had  been  brought  up,  but  in  1582, 
Michael  Toxites,  professor  at  Tiibingen,  and 
paedagogarch  of  the  duchy  of  Wurtemburg, 
pronounced  in  sad  and  bitter  words  an  equally 
hard  sentence  on  the  Latin  instruction  as  given 
since  the  days  of  Melanchthon.  The  cause  of 
morality  was  not  helped  by  the  use  •  of  the 
"Colloquia"  of  Erasmus,  a  model,  indeed,  of 
exquisite  Latin,  but  otherwise  an  irreverent, 
cynical,  and  immoral  book,  utterly  unfitted  for 
the  formation  of  good  habits,  and  which  was 
equally  condemned  by  Luther  and  St.  Igna- 
tius. Ovid's  "  Art  of  Love,"  and  the  unexpur- 
gated  works  of  Catullus,  Tibullus,  Propertius, 
and  other  dissolute  writers  of  antiquity  were  in 
common  use  in  the  schools.  There  is  surely 
little  reason  for  wondering  that  the  morality 
of  the  scholars  was  very  low,  and  that  the  hearts 


266       GERMAN  SCHOOLS  IN  XVI.    CENTURY. 

of  their  teachers,  when  not  themselves  affected 
by  the  laxity  of  the  times,  sank  within  them  at 
the  sight  of  the  dissipation  and  evil  courses  of 
their  young  charges.  The  schools  of  Pforta, 
Meissen,  and  Grimma  in  the  Saxon  Electorate, 
opened  Hke  most  of  the  Protestant  schools  in 
former  convents,  and  supported  by  Catholic 
funds,  were  much  admired  among  the  Evan- 
gelicals, and  drew  many  students  from  the  Re- 
formed lands.  Nevertheless,  the  reports  of  the 
visitors  and  the  school-ordinances  show  that  the 
internal  discipline  was  wretched.  They  contain 
complaints  of  the  immodest,  unseemly  clothing 
of  the  scholars,  of  their  richly  embroidered  wide 
mantles,  with  puffed  sleeves,  etc.,  so  that  they 
look  "  mehr  reuberisch  dann  schlilerisch."  Blas- 
phemy, thieving,  gambling,  unchaste  conduct, 
drunkenness,  and  similar  vices  are  set  down  to 
their  account.  They  are  forbidden  to  break  in 
the  wine-cellars  of  the  neighborhood ;  to  break 
up  the  tables,  chairs,  and  other  furniture  of  the 
school ;  to  escape  secretly  by  night  from  its  pre- 
cincts ;  to  keep  immoral  books  and  pictures ;  to 
visit  dances  and  drinking  bouts.  Nor  were  such 
rules  useless,  or  in  terrorem^  for  similar  complaints 
come  from  distinguished  teachers  like  Michael 
Neander  at  Ilfeld,  Basilius  Faber  at  Nordhausen 


GERMAN  SCHOOLS  IN  XVI.    CENTUET.       267 

and  elsewhere,  Camerarius  and  Eobanus  Hessus 
at  Niirnberg,  Hieronymus  Wolf  at  Augsburg, 
Johann  Sturm  at  Strasburg,  and  others.  "  Would 
that  I  might  talk  with  you  about  these  things/' 
wrote  Camerarius  in  1536  to  Luther,  "  they  are 
by  no  means  vain,  unfounded  complaints."  In 
a  letter  to  George  Fabricius,  Rector  of  Meissen, 
written  in  1550,  he  says  that  the  downfall  of 
Germany  is  near,  since  religion,  science,  disci- 
pline and  honorableness  of  life  are  perishing. 
"  Education  and  life  are  far  other  to-day,"  wrote 
he  in  1555, "  than  in  my  youth  (circa  1500),  when 
the  hearts  of  the  students  were  filled  with  zeal, 
studies  flourished,  and  a  joyous  rivalry  reigned 
in  the  pursuit  of  learning." 

Polemical  enmities  between  the  teachers  and 
the  preachers  in  the  matters  of  Justification  and 
Communion  did  much  to  increase  the  general 
disorder  in  the  schools.  Scarcely  a  prominent 
school  of  Protestant  Germany  was  free  from 
this  evil.  Even  the  minor  Latin  schools  became 
the  scenes  of  theological  discussion  in  which,  by 
question  and  answer,  the  students  were  made 
familiar  with  the  theology  of  their  teacher,  and 
taught  to  anathematize  his  opponent,  until  such 
time  as  the  religion  was  changed  in  the  district, 
and  a  new   set   of   doctrines   introduced.     The 


268       GERMAN  SCHOOLS  IN  XVL    CENTUBY. 

salaries  of  the  teachers  were  very  low,  because 
the  old  pious  foundations  had  been  squandered 
or  were  badly  managed.  Their  dwellings  were, 
in  many  cities,  unsuitable,  and  their  condition 
generally  an  unhappy  one.  They  seldom  stayed 
long  in  one  place,  which  added  greatly  to  the 
disorganization  of  the  schools.  Finally,  the 
stream  of  pious  generosity  to  which  most  of 
the  German  schools  owed  their  existence  had 
long  since  dried  up,  and  little  means  were  forth- 
coming to  provide  new  or  sustain  the  old.  "  Our 
beloved  ancestors,"  exclaimed  the  superintendent, 
Christoph  Fischer,  of  Smalkelden,  in  1580, 
"  provided  for  the  schools  by  their  last  wills  and 
by  foundations.  But  now  we  see  daily  how  the 
love  of  the  poor  and  of  needy  students  is  grown 
cold,  and  the  money  spent  on  churches  and 
schools  is  considered  a  waste."  "In  the  dark- 
ness of  the  papacy,"  wrote  Conrad  Porta,  of 
Eisleben,  toward  the  end  of  the  sixteenth 
century,  "  every  one,  from  the  highest  to  the 
lowest,  even  servants  and  day-laborers,  contrib- 
uted to  churches  and  schools,  but  now,  in  the 
clear  light  of  the  gospel,  even  the  rich  grow 
impatient  if  ever  so  little  be  asked,  even  for  the 
repairing  and  maintenance  of  those  on  hand." 
Though  contemporary  and  domestic  evidences 


GERMAN  SCHOOLS  IN  XVI.    CENTURY,       269 

show  how  unsatisfactory  was  the  entu-e  school 
system  of  Protestant  Germany  during  the 
sixteenth  century,  there  can  be  no  doubt  that 
for  a  portion  of  that  time  the  schools  of  the 
Catholics  suffered  greatly  from  the  consequences 
of  the  new  religious  revolutions.  In  1541, 
Archbishop  Albrecht  of  Mainz  confessed  to 
Cardinal  Contarini  the  superiority  of  the  Protes- 
tant schools,  and  in  1550,  the  noble  Bishop  of 
Wiirzburg,  Julius  Pflug,  wrote  to  Paul  III.,  that 
while  the  Protestant  schools  were  flourishing,  the 
Catholic  schools  were  in  a  condition  of  decay. 
Not  the  least  merit  of  the  Society  of  Jesus  in 
Germany  is  its  restoration  during  the  latter  half 
of  the  sixteenth  century  of  the  ancient  fame  of 
schools  and  academies  which  had  reached  the 
lowest  step  of  degradation.  In  1556,  one  of 
the  city  gymnasia  of  Cologne  was  confided  to 
them,  and  in  a  brief  space  of  time  they  had 
establishments  in  Munich  (1559),  Mainz  (1561), 
Trier  (1561),  Heiligenstadt  (1575),  Coblenz 
(1582),  Paderborn  (1587),  Miinster  (1588),  and 
in  other  large  towns  and  cities  like  Ingolstadt, 
Dillingen,  and  Wiirzburg.  Their  enemies  did 
not  fail  to  recognize  the  skill  and  devotion  of 
the  new  teachers.  The  superintendent,  George 
Nigrinus,  complained   in  1582  that  Protestant 


270       GERMAN  SCHOOLS  IN  XVI.    CENTURY, 

parents  of  the  upper  and  middle  classes  were 
wont  to  send  their  children  to  the  Jesuits,  and 
to  praise  their  industry  and  their  labors.  There 
was  a  great  personal  charm  in  these  men,  often 
of  high  birth,  trained  from  youth  to  self-denial 
and  self-control,  filled  with  the  enthusiasm  of 
Crusaders  bent  on  recovering  lost  spiritual  terri- 
tory, well-bred,  and  refined  by  travel  and  the 
cosmopolitan  company  of  the  novitiates  and 
colleges.  The  example  of  their  lives,  divided 
between  prayer  and  study,  won  the  hearts  of  the 
youth  intrusted  to  them,  and  filled  the  order  it- 
self with  the  choicest  vocations.  Their  programme 
of  studies  aimed  chiefly  at  the  training  of  men 
destined  to  live  in  the  world ;  hence  the  classic 
languages  and  profane  science  absorbed  most  of 
their  attention.  Nevertheless,  the  religious  for- 
mation of  the  youth  was  carefully  attended  to. 
The  daily  mass,  the  frequent  confessions  and 
communions,  the  exercises  of  the  special  sodali- 
ties, the  personal  guidance  of  the  tutors  and 
instructors,  the  regularity  of  the  daily  life  of 
the  college,  acted  powerfully  upon  the  mind  and 
heart  and  imagination,  especially  in  the  earliest 
days  of  the  movement,  when  the  fine  enthusiasm  ■ 
of  struggle  was  at  its  white  heat,  and  one  could 
almost  see  the  fulness  of  victory  in  the  rapidity 


GERMAN  SCHOOLS  IJST  XVI.    CENTUBY.       271 

with  whicli  the  tide  of  revolution  was  being 
rolled  back.  In  these  houses  of  study  there  was 
a  thorough  unity  of  spirit  and  authority.  While 
the  rector  of  each  was  absolute  master  of  the 
internal  and  external  life  of  the  college,  he  was 
also  responsible  for  each  student,  both  for  his 
bodily  and  mental  development.  The  original 
programme  of  studies  prescribed  constant,  but 
not  overwhelming,  work,  provided  for  moderate 
recreation,,  forbade  the  acceptance  of  gifts  or 
presents  from  the  students,  and  commanded  the 
reception  of  children  of  every  class. 

The  teachers  were  instructed  to  plant  securely 
the  seeds  of  Catholic  faith  in  the  hearts  of  their 
scholars,  and  to  remember  that  they  were  not  mere 
grammarians  or  rhetoricians.  The  hope  of  dis- 
tinction and  the  fear  of  disgrace  were  proposed 
as  powerful  and  natural  motives  of  labor,  and 
corporal  punishment  was  to  be  rarely  administered 
and  then  by  a  special  official.  Between  these 
schools  there  existed  close  mutual  relations,  and 
the  teachers  and  text-books  of  France  or  Italy 
often  found  their  way  to  Germany,  and  vice 
versa.  The  teaching  was  in  great  measure 
gratuitous.  The  prestige  of  the  order's  religious 
and  political  successes  was  another  element  of 
strength,  and  the  polished  manners,  the  courtesy 


272       GEBMAN  SCHOOLS  IN  XVI.    CENTURY, 

and  urbanity  of  its  disciples  a  proof  that  it  had 
found  new  sources  of  influence  over  the  youth  of 
Germany,  and  knew  how  to  draw  upon  them  for 
the  perfection  of  youthful  character.  They 
withstood  the  heresies  that  were  being  quietly 
instilled  in  certain  schools,  like  the  ancient  and 
renowned  one  of  Dtisseldorf,  where  the  catechism 
of  John  Monheim  was  ©verturning  the  founda- 
tions of  the  Catholic  faith.  The  Jesuit  schools 
of  Miinster  and  Paderborn  became  in  time 
famous  nurseries  of  Westphalian  Catholicism, 
and  the  memories  of  their  period  of  renown  still 
cling  about  these  picturesque  old  towns  like  a 
dim  but  lovely  halo. 

Munich,  however,  seems  to  have  been  the 
scene  of  the  highest  academical  and  social  activ- 
ity of  the  Jesuit  teachers  of  the  sixteenth 
century.  The  rapid  spread  of  the  order,  the 
numerous  demands  made  upon  its  chiefs  for  the 
most  varied  services,  religious  and  political, 
made  it  hard  to  keep  up  always  with  the  needs 
of  the  age.  As  early  as  1565  the  superiors  of 
the  province  of  Higher  Germany  admitted  that 
their  professors  were  either  men  broken  by  long 
labors  or  young,  unskilled  novices.  The  memoir 
of  Jacob  Pontanus  (1582)  and  the  Epistola  de 
scholasticorum  nostrorum  moribus  of  the  general 


GERMAN  SCHOOLS  IN  XVI.    CENTURY.       273 

Aquaviva  (1611)  show  that  no  one  was  more 
conscious  than  themselves  of  the  weaknesses 
that  were  growing  within  the  order,  and  which 
it  needed  the  general  "  Ratio  Studiorum  "of  1599 
to  correct  or  expel.  Withal,  their  main  object 
in  this  first  century  of  their  scholastic  activity 
in  Germany  was  an  eloquens  et  sapiens  j^^^ic^s, 
the  production  of  pious  and  devoted  Catholics, 
skilled  in  all  the  social  arts,  filled  with  the  prac- 
tical wisdom  of  life,  and  bent  on  preserving  or 
restoring  the  broken  unity  of  the  great  Christian 
body. 

With  the  Renaissance  there  entered  into  the 
lives  of  Teutonic  and  Romance  nations  many 
elements  and  motives  of  the  old  classic  peoples, 
for  which  they  were  prepared,  indeed,  but  which 
contrasted,  nevertheless,  greatly  with  their  own 
mediaeval  philosophy.  Very  significant  in  this 
regard  is  the  interest  taken  in  the  classic  drama- 
tists. Already  in  the  latter  half  of  the  fifteenth 
century,  Terence  and  Plautus  were  put  upon  the 
stage.  It  was  not  without  protest  at  the  begin- 
ning, for  if  Erasmus  encouraged  the  practice, 
Jacob  Wimpheling  was  opposed  to  it.  Melanch- 
thon  and  Luther,  and  the  Reformers  generally, 
favored  it  greatly,  and  in  all  their  schools  the 
plays  of   the  dramatic   philosophers  of  Roman 


274        GERMAN  SCHOOLS  IN  XVI.    CENTUBT, 

antiquity  were  frequently  rehearsed.  At  Stras- 
burg  all  the  comedies  of  Plautus  and  Terence 
were,  for  a  time,  reproduced  in  the  course  of 
every  six  months,  not  excepting  the  most  objec- 
tionable plays.  The  progress  of  the  students, 
the  delight  of  the  parents,  and  the  still  vivid 
attachment  to  the  mystery  plays,  were  the  im- 
mediate motives  assignable .  for  the  time  and 
care  given  to  the  classic  plays.  Though  the 
shrewd  and  practical  life-wisdom  of  the  ancient 
comedians  delighted  the  burghers  at  Christmas 
and  Easter,  and  though  the  students,  in  their 
frequent  preparation,  penetrated  profoundly  into 
the  nature  and  structure  of  the  Latin  tongue, 
more  than  one  teacher  of  youth  deprecated  the 
evils  of  the  promiscuous  reading  and  representa- 
tion of  plays  whose  authors  were  pagan  to  the  core 
and  placed  upon  the  public  scene  situations  that 
were  shocking  to  the  Christian  view  of  life,  and 
principles  that  offended  the  basic  laws  of  Chris- 
tian morality.  Thus  there  arose  a  Christianized 
Terence,  a  Neo-Latin  school-drama,  whose  sub- 
jects were  often  taken  from  the  Bible,  and 
treated  in  the  most  Terentian  or  Plautian  style. 
Both  Protestants  and  Catholics  took  a  part  in 
this  work.  Reuchlin,  Schonaeus,  Gnaphaeus, 
and  Macropedius  were  its  foremost  champions. 


GERMAN  SCHOOLS  IN  XVI.    CENTUBY.         275 

The  "Asotus,"  "Josephus/'  and  "  Hecastus,"  of 
the  latter  found  a  lasting  popular  welcome,  as 
did  the  less  praiseworthy  works  of  Nicodemus 
Frischlin  —  his  "Rebecca,"  "Susanna/'  and 
"  Julius  Redivivus."  In  time  even  the  Neo- 
Latin  school-drama  degenerated,  and  pieces  like 
the  "  Studentes,"  the  "  Amantes  Amentes/'  and 
the  "Cornelius  Relegatus"  drew  more  spec- 
tators than  the  biblical  drama.  The  latter  was 
very  often  treated  in  a  manner  offensive  to 
Catholics,  and  no  small  share  of  the  popular 
hate  and  ignorance  must  have  come  from  this 
nominally  religious  theatre,  in  which  the  pope, 
the  monks,  and  the  "  idolaters  "  played  so  large 
and  so  ridiculous  a  role. 

The  peculiarities  of  the  principles  and  meth- 
ods of  the  early  Jesuits  as  teachers  showed  them- 
selves nowhere  more  strikingly  than  in  their 
treatment  of  the  school-drama.  From  the  be- 
ginning their  "Ratio  Studiorum"  made  little  or  no 
place  for  Terence  and  Plautus,  and  when,  later 
on,  the  latter  obtained  a  hearing,  great  care  was 
exercised  to  put  upon  the  stage  only  such  plays 
as  did  not  offend  the  dictates  of  Christian  moral- 
ity. If  the  Jesuits  made  way  at  all  for  the 
comedy,  it  was  originally  from  pedagogical 
motives,  the  desire  to  train  their  students  in  the 


276        GERMAN  SCHOOLS  IN  XVI.    CENTURY . 

arts  of  oratory  and  extempore  speaking,  and  to 
develop  in  them  a  certain  natural  ease  and 
graceful  self-possession  which  the  mimic  experi- 
ences of  the  stage  go  far  to  produce.  The 
charms  of  virtue  and  the  hateful ness  of  sin  were 
the  lines  on  which  they  built  up  their  own  thea- 
tre, and  when,  in  the  middle  of  the  seventeenth 
century,  the  Dutch  poet,  Joost  van  den  Vondel, 
defended  the  stage  against  the  attacks  of  Calvin- 
ist  writers,  he  could  appeal  to  the  public  exam- 
ple of  the  Jesuits,  whose  edifying  school-dramas 
did  so  much  to  confirm  their  scholars  in  the 
principles  of  morality.  The  subjects  were  gen- 
erally chosen  from  the  Scriptures  or  the  lives  of 
the  Saints,  and  often  treated  with  great  literary 
skill.  Twice  a  year  was  the  ordinary  rule  for 
their  presentation,  but  what  was  lost  in  fre- 
quency was  made  up  in  magnificence.  This 
splendid  sumptuous  character  the  Jesuit  dramas 
took  over  from  the  great  mystery-plays  of  the 
preceding  century.  Indeed,  in  every  sense  the 
school-drama  of  the  Jesuits  seems  to  be  the  heir 
and  successor  of  these  gorgeous  ''  mysteries  "  of 
an  earlier  day.  Multitudes  came  from  afar  to 
the  new  plays,  and  the  largest  halls  were  un- 
equal to  their  accommodation.  Sometimes  they 
took  several  days  in  their  execution,  and  they 


GERMAN  SCHOOLS  IN  XVL    CENTUUY.         277 

were  often  repeated  by  popular  insistence.  Who- 
ever has  seen  the  ^'Passion  Play  "at  Ober-Am- 
mergau,  and  recalls  the  emotions  it  awakens,  will 
have  some  faint  notion  of  what  a  magnificent 
school-drama  given  by  the  German  Jesuits^,  let 
us  say  of  Munich,  would  be  like.  For  it  was  at 
Munich  that  the  Jesuit  drama  reached  its  acme. 
The  princely,  art-loving  Wittelsbacher,  always 
half  Italian  by  their  position  and  their  ideals, 
were  the  patrons  of  the  new  school,  and  spared 
nothing  to  insure  the  noblest  framing  of  its  pro- 
ductions. In  1574  the  tragedy  of  "  Constan- 
tine,"  by  the  Pater  Georg  Agricola,  was  given 
during  two  days.  The  whole  city  was  turned 
into  a  stage,  over  one  thousand  actors  were  in- 
troduced, and  an  enormous  multitude  streamed 
in  from  every  side  to  behold,  on  one  day,  the 
gorgeous  pomp  of  the  triumphal  procession  of 
Constantine  after  the  defeat  of  Maxentius,  and, 
on  the  other,  the  solemn  triumph  of  the  Holy 
Cross,  on  which  the  sign  of  our  salvation  was 
borne  aloft  through  the  city,  amid  the  jubilant 
acclamations  of  many  thousand  spectators.  In 
Jacob  Bidemann  the  Jesuits  of  the  first  quarter 
of  the  seventeenth  century  reached  the  acme  of 
their  dramatic  reputation.  His  "  Joannes  Caly- 
bita/'    "  The   Egyptian   Joseph,"    '^  Belisarius/' 


278       GERMAN  SCHOOLS  IN  XVI.    CENTURY. 

and  "  Cenodoxus,  the  Doctor  of  Paris,"  are  said 
to  be  not  unworthy  of  Calderon.  "  In  general,'* 
says  von  Reinhardstottner,  "  the  Jesuits  did 
much  great  and  durable  work  in  the  first  century 
of  their  dramatic  labors.  While  they  infused 
poetry  and  art  into  the  dry  framework  of  the 
humanistic  drama,  they  also  awakened  and  pre- 
served throughout  Bavaria,  and  especially  in 
Munich,  both  taste  and  intelligence  for  the  thea- 
tre and  its  useful  services." 

The  wars  of  religion  and  the  weakening  of 
the  imperial  and  papal  authority  brought  about 
a  sad  condition  for  the  Catholic  universities  of 
Germany  during  the  sixteenth  century.  They 
lost  more  and  more  their  ancient  character  of 
great  independent  corporations,  representative 
of  the  highest  interests  of  the  Church,  elevated 
above  party  strife  and  private  opinion,  animated 
by  a  love  of  knowledge  and  existing  only  for  its 
diffusion.  Freiburg  in  Breisgau,  once  flourishing, 
degenerated  almost  totally.  Ingolstadt,  Cologne, 
and  Erfurt  were  in  the  same  category.  The 
University  of  Vienna,  which  had  risen  so  rapidly 
under  the  first  Maximilian,  sank  steadily  from 
the  outbreak  of  the  Reformation.  Its  numbers 
decreased,  its  revenues  were  ill-managed,  its  pro* 
lessors  were  obliged  to  combine  other  occupations 


GERMAN  SCHOOLS  IN  XVI.    CENTURY.       279 

with  tlieir  teaching  office,  and  its  chairs  were 
made  centres  for  the  dissemination  of  heresy. 
Endless  proposals  of  reform  were  made,  but  not 
executed.  The  students  were  poor  and  wretched, 
often  obliged  to  beg  their  bread,  because  the  old 
"Bursen"  colleges  or  dormitories  were  closed  or 
in  decay.  In  fact,  it  was  the  loss  of  these  dwell- 
ing houses  for  the  students,  erected  by  the 
Catholic  generosity  of  a  preceding  age  and  once 
carefully  governed,  that  brought  about  the 
downfall  of  many  universities.  The  private  life 
of  the  academical  youth  was  thenceforth  utterly 
without  control ;  and  immorality,  idleness,  duel- 
ling, and  contentiousness  gained  daily  the  upper 
hand.  The  success  of  the  Jesuits  in  secondary 
instruction  suggested  them,  in  this  extraordinary 
situation,  for  the  universities,  and  in  the  latter 
half  of  the  sixteenth  century  the  theological, 
philological,  and  philosophical  teaching  in  Cath- 
olic lands  of  German  tongue  passed  in  great 
measure  under  their  control,  as  at  Ingolstadt, 
Dillingen,  Wiirzburg,  Cologne,  and  Trier.  Their 
chairs  attracted  a  multitude  of  students,  while 
those  of  the  university  professors  were  often 
utterly  neglected.  Bitter  recriminations  arose 
on  the  part  of  the  latter,  especially  at  Ingolstadt^ 
which  were  paralleled  in  other  university  towns, 


280       GERMAN  SCHOOLS  IN  XVI.    CENTURY, 

like  Freiburg,  "Wiirzburg,  and  Vienna.  In  tlie 
latter  place  the  awarding  of  university  honors 
by  the  Jesuits  was  long  a  source  of  painful  dis- 
putes, the  university  demanding  that  all  the 
scholars  and  studies  of  the  Jesuits  should  be 
under  the  general  supervision  of  the  rector  of 
the  university,  and  King  Ferdinand  replying 
that  he  would  do  nothing  against  the  interests 
of  the  order.  During  this  period  the  civil  and 
ecclesiastical  powers  looked  upon  the  Jesuits  as 
the  most  reliable  and  experienced  teachers  of 
youth,  and  least  likely  to  mislead  or  be  mis- 
led in  the  rapid  and  profound  changes  that  were 
going  on  in  the  society  of  that  day.  The  dis- 
cipline of  Jesuit  houses  was  excellent,  while  the 
once  admirable  administration  of  the  "  Bursen  " 
was  everywhere  disrupted,  chiefly  because  of 
the  malversation  of  the  funds,  but  not  unfre- 
quently  because,  in  the  confusion  of  religious 
revolution,,  the  devotion  to  youth  and  the  pro- 
found pedagogical  philosophy  of  the  fifteenth 
century  had  become  cold  or  forgotten.  The 
university  professors  were  wretchedly  paid,  their 
position  that  of  State  servants,  their  orthodoxy 
suspected,  and  their  authority  over  the  stu- 
dents small.  No  class  of  men  lost  more  by  the 
Reformation  than  they,  for   whereas   before  it 


GERMAN  SCHOOLS  IN  XVI.    CENTURY.       281 

they  were  esteemed  members  of  a  self-governing 
body,  with  ancient  traditions  and  strong  social 
authority,  they  were  now  little  better  than  day- 
laborers,  without  prestige  or  power  beyond  their 
personal  action,  and  obliged  to  assist  at  the 
transfer  to  youthful  rivals  of  functions  to  which 
in  the  ordinary  course  of  events  they  would  have 
been  the  natural  heirs. 

Of  the  Protestant  universities,  some,  like 
Tubingen  and  Leipsic,  had  been  violently  re- 
formed; others  were  new  creations,  like  Mar- 
burg, Konigsberg,  Jena,  and  Helmstadt.  In  all 
of  them  the  local  civil  authority  reigned  supreme, 
and  the  many  changes  from  Lutheran  to  Cal- 
vinist  dynasty,  and  vice  versa,  made  the  posi- 
tions of  the  professors  uncertain  and  kept  up 
a  constant  change.  The  needs  of  the  petty 
German  dynasts  of  the  sixteenth  century  were 
many  and  great  for  wars  and  court,  travel,  bri- 
bery, and  dissipation.  The  ancient  funds  of  their 
universities  were  tempting,  and  their  avarice  was 
often  the  cause  of  the  diminution  or  total  disap- 
pearance of  the  scholastic  wealth  collected  before 
the  Reformation.  The  power  of  the  emperor 
was  now  a  bit  of  archaism,  and  that  of  the  little 
duke  or  princelet  was  supreme.  All  hung  upon 
his  humor  or  temperament.      Universities   like 


282         GEBMAN  SCHOOLS  IN  XVI.    CENTURY. 

Rostock  and  Greifswald  were  made  mendicant 
during  the  whole  century.  In  all  of  them  the 
salaries  of  the  professors  were  meagre  and  often 
withheld.  The  court-fool  and  the  fencing-master 
of  the  sovereign  were  far  better  off,  and  so  low 
did  they  sink  at  times  that  the  professors  looked 
on  it  as  a  valuable  privilege  to  possess  the  right 
of  sale  of  wine  and  beer  to  their  students.  They 
added  other  occupations  to  piece  out  a  sufficient 
revenue.  They  were  frequently  absent  on  their 
own  business,  and  a  supervision  had  often  to  be 
established  over  their  lessons  or  their  daily  ap- 
pearance. As  there  was  little  dignity  in  their 
treatment  from  above,  so  in  turn  there  was  often 
small  edification  in  the  example  of  their  lives. 
The  public  records  are  full  of  reproaches  and 
specific  accusations  against  the  teachers.  The 
same  records  abound  in  denunciations  of  the 
students  for  vanity  in  dress,  neglect  of  study, 
violent  uproarious  conduct  at  night  in  the  public 
streets,  maltreatment  of  the  townspeople,  ''  the 
worship  of  Bacchus  and  Venus,"  and  general  "Cy- 
clopean savagery."  In  1537  Melanchthon  com- 
plained of  the  absence  of  discipline  at  Wittenberg, 
and  of  the  untamable  self-will  of  the  students. 
In  1565  it  was  not  better.  Two  years  previous 
the  sons  of  the  Duke  of  Pomerania  left  the  town 


GERMAN  SCHOOLS  IN  XVI.    CENTURY.         283 

because  of  the  dissolute  habits  of  the  students. 
They  had  lodgings  in  the  old  Augustinian  mon- 
astery, become  the  property  of  Luther,  and 
where  his  son  Martin  kept  a  tavern.  But  they 
could  not  stay;  for  above  them  were  seven  rooms 
full  of  Frenchmen  and  Poles,  Suabians  and  Fran- 
conians,  whose  disorderly  life,  day  and  night, 
caused  them  great  inconvenience.  Tubingen  is 
described  by  contemporaries  as  the  scene  of  the 
wildest  dissipation.  In  1577  the  subsheriff  of  the 
town  declared  that  no  citizen  dared  longer  to  act 
as  constable,  and  that  the  place  was  worse  than 
Sodom  and  Gomorrha.  The  students  resisted 
all  attempts  at  punishment,  and  every  night  was 
made  hideous  with  the  shouts  of  revellers,  cries 
of  angry  disputants,  breaking  of  doors  and  win- 
dows, and  an  occasional  murder  of  a  watchman 
or  a  fellow-student.  In  general,  academical 
discipline  seems  to  have  been  to  a  great  extent 
ruined,  and  the  saying  ran  :  — 

"  Wer  von  Tiibingen  kommt  ohne  Weib, 
Von  Jena  mit  gesundem  Leib, 
Von  Helmstadt  ohne  Wunden, 
Von  Jena  ohne  Schrunden. 
Von  Marburg  ungef  alien, 
Hat  nicht  studirt  auf  alien." 

Unhappiest  of  all  men  was  the  new  student, 
who  had  to  go  through  a  time  of  fagging.     He 


284         GERMAN  SCHOOLS  IN  XVL    CENTURY, 

was  called  '^Beanus''  (bec-jaune)  or  "Fox,"  and 
defined  as  a  "  wild  animal  whose  horns  had  to 
be  cut  off  to  make  him  fit  to  assist  at  the  public 
lectures  of  the  university."  Innocent  enough 
iu  its  early  pre-Reformation  stages,  this  practice 
became  a  very  cruel  and  inhuman  ceremony  in 
the  sixteenth  century,  accompanied  with  heavy 
fines  and  whole  nights  of  drunkenness.  The  new 
student  had  no  longer  the  "  Bursen  "  to  go  to  for 
shelter,  and  was  usually  handed  over  for  guid- 
ance to  some  older  student  from  his  own  neigh- 
borhood. He  became  at  once  the  "  famulus  "  or 
slave  of  this  "  Herr "  or  "  Patron,"  waited  on 
him  day  and  night,  suffered  from  his  fits  of 
anger,  gave  him  his  money  and  his  best  clothing 
—  in  a  word,  was  his  chattel,  until  such  time  as 
his  own  turn  came  and  he  ceased  to  be  a  "  Pen- 
naler"  or  weak-featkered  thing,  and  became  a 
"  Schorist"  or  Shearer  of  those  under  him.  Wolf- 
gang Heider,  professor  at  Jena  in  1667,  has  left 
us  a  pen-portrait  of  "  a  genuine  Shearer,"  which 
is  absolutely  untranslatable,  and  must  therefore 
be  read  in  the  original.  Perhaps  no  better  index 
could  be  given  of  the  moral  tone  of  many  of  these 
universities  than  is  found  in  the  "  Song  of  the 
Drinker's  Club  "  of  Jena,  a  much-beloved  "  Lied  " 
of  the  early  part  of  the  seventeenth  century :  — 


GERMAN  SCHOOLS  IN  XVI.    CENTURY.         285 

"Lasst  uns  schlemmen  und  demmen  bis  morgenl 
Lasset  uns  frohlich  sein  ohne  Sorgen  ! 
Wer  uns  nicht  bargen  will,  komme  morgen ! 
Wir  haben  iiur  kleine  Zeit  hier  auf  Erden, 
Drum  muss  sie  uns  kurz  und  lieb  doch  werden, 
Wer  einmal  stirbt,  der  liegt  und  bleibt  liegen, 
Aus  ist  es  mit  Leben  und  mit  Vergniigen. 
Wir  haben  nocli  von  Keinem  vernommen : 
Er  sei  von  der  Holle  zurUck  gekommen, 
Und  habe  verkiindet  wie  dort  es  stiinde. 
Gute  Gesellschaft  treiben  ist  ja  nicht  Siinde, 
Sauf  also  dich  voll  und  lege  dich  nieder ! 
Steh  auf  und  sauf  und  besaufe  dich  wieder.'* 


BATHS  AND  BATHING  IN  THE  MIDDLE 

AGES. 

One  of  the  most  stupid  calumnies  on  the 
manners  of  the  Catholic  Middle  Ages  is  that 
bathing  was  forbidden,  that  it  was  seldom  prac- 
tised, and  the  like.  The  authority  of  Michelet 
contributed  greatly  to  confirm  this  untruthful 
statement,  and  within  a  few  years  Renan  has 
repeated  it  in  the  last  volume  of  his  "  Origins  of 
Christianity."  Under  the  aegis  of  these  impartial 
patriarchs  it  may  be  expected  to  floiu-ish  in  spite 
of  all  solid  reasons  to  the  contrary.  Would  that 
we  had  many  such  precious  volumes  as  the 
"  Historical  Blunders  "  of  Father  Bridgett,  which 
treats  with  precision  and  finality  a  number  of 
similar  errors. 

The  primitive  Christians  frequented  the  public 
baths,  as  may  be  easily  deduced  from  the  well- 
known  anecdote  of  St.  John  and  Cerinthus, 
which  St.  Irenaeus  has  handed  down  to  us. 
Clement  of  Alexandria  enumerates  the  reasons 
for  which  a  Christian  man  or  woman  may  visit 
the  baths,  and  that  chapter  of  the  "  Paedagogus  '* 

286 


BATHS  AND  BATHING  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES.    287 

might  be  read  yet  with  profit,  so  moderate  and 
sensible  is  it.  Tertullian,  though  inclined  to 
diminish  the  frequency  of  bathing,  is  convinced 
of  its  necessity,  and  tells  us  in  his  "  Apology  " 
why  and  when  he  bathed.  St.  Augustine  re- 
lates in  his  "  Confessions "  that  among  other 
;iieans  of  allaying  his  sorrow  at  his  mother's 
death,  he  was  moved  to  go  and  bathe,  since  the 
Greek  name  of  the  bath  signified  its  power  to 
banish  sorrow  from  the  heart. 

The  "  Apostolic  Constitutions,"  an  old  episco- 
pal manual  originally  compiled  about  the  begin- 
ning of  the  third  century  of  our  era,  look  upon 
the  use  of  the  bath  as  quite  a  matter  of  course, 
and  only  provide  against  certain  abuses.  The 
ancient  Christian  cities  of  Syria  were  well  pro- 
vided with  baths,  some  of  which  are  yet  in  ex- 
cellent preservation,  and  there  is  every  reason 
to  believe  that  the  larger  churches  of  the 
Orient  had  baths  attached  to  them  for  the  use 
of  the  clergy.  Such  baths  existed  at  Naples  in 
the  early  Christian  ages,  as  one  may  see  by  the 
miniatures  in  the  work  of  Paciaudi  on  the  sacred 
baths  of  the  Christians.  Eusebius  of  Caesarea 
and  St.  Paulinus  of  Nola  are  guarantees  that 
they  were  commonly  attached  to  the  greater 
churches  in  Syria  and  Italy.      No  doubt  men 


288    BATHS  AND  BATHING  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES. 

like  St.  Cyprian,  St.  Epiphanius,  and  St.  Jerome 
were  much  opposed  to  the  use  of  the  common 
baths  by  Christians,  but  their  objections  were 
well  founded.  The  public  baths  too  often  per- 
mitted the  promiscuous  bathing  of  both  sexes, 
which  was  shocking  to  the  Christian  mind. 
Moreover,  they  were  the  resorts  of  all  the 
loungers  and  gossipy  people  of  the  town.  For- 
bidden amusements  were  connected  with  them, 
lewd  women  visited  them,  and  these  resorts 
encourag:ed  the  vice  of  female  drunkenness,  es- 
pecially  abhorrent  to  the  Graeco-Roman  peoples. 
To  visit  such  baths  seemed  to  many  against 
the  decorum  and  gravity  which  should  mark 
the  professors  of  Christianity,  not  to  speak  of  the 
uglier  features  of  these  establishments  which  no 
amount  of  imperial  legislation  could  keep  free 
from  disreputable  reproaches.  Diadochus  of 
Photice,  a  moderate  master  of  the  spiritual  life, 
who  flourished  in  the  fifth  century,  expressly 
says  that  bathing  is  no  sin,  but  that  it  is  a  sign 
of  a  virile  soul  and  an  act  of  temperance  if  one 
abstain  from  it.  We  may  understand  such 
teaching  as  applying  not  to  bathing  in  general, 
but  to  the  use  of  the  luxurious  public  baths.  At 
the  same  time  we  find  Theodoret,  the  great 
bishop  of  Cyrrhus  in  Syria,  providing  baths  for 


BATES  AND  BATHING  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES,    289 

the  people  and  building  aqueducts  for  their 
maintenance.  A  century  earlier  the  Council  of 
Laodicea,  legislating  concerning  the  use  of  baths, 
merely  condemned  the  promiscuous  bathing  of 
both  sexes.  In  fact,  the  necessity  of  bathing 
was  felt  by  the  ancient  Christian  peoples  to  be 
almost  as  great  as  that  of  eating  and  drinking, 
and  to  go  about  unbathed,  in  sackcloth  and 
ashes,  seemed  to  them  the  greatest  of  penances. 
Even  the  monks  were  allowed  to  bathe,  and  the 
antiquarian  Chris tianus  Lupus  tells  us  that  the 
bath  was  looked  on  as  no  less  indispensable  to 
every  ancient  monastery  than  its  kitchen.  The 
early  Fathers,  in  general,  had  no  objection  to 
baths  being  used  for  cleanliness  or  health,  and 
Gregory  the  Great  was  willing  that  they  should 
be  used  on  Sunday. 

The  splendid  baths  of  Rome  were  gradually 
closed  after  the  middle  of  the  fifth  century,  not 
through  any  action  on  the  part  of  the  popes,  but 
because  the  barbarian  Huns  had  cut  the  aque- 
ducts which  fed  these  magnificent  structures. 
The  baths  of  Constantinople  remained  in  use 
through  the  Middle  Ages,  and  those  of  Alex- 
andria and  Brusa  in  Bithynia  were  also  well 
known  and  frequented. 

In  the  article  on  baths  in  the  "  Encyclopaedia 


290    BATHS  AND  BATHING  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES, 

Britannica,"  Dr.  John  Macpherson,  author  of 
"  The  Baths  and  Wells  of  Europe  "  declares  that 
it  is  doubtful  if  the  practice  of  bathing  was  ever 
disused  to  the  extent  that  is  usually  represented. 
It  is  not  only  doubtful,  but  certain,  that  bathing 
was  exceedingly  common  during  the  Middle  Ages, 
as  any  one  can  convince  himself  who  cares  to 
read,  I  will  not  say  the  original  chronicles  and 
biographies  of  the  time,  but  the  numerous  his- 
tories of  the  economy,  luxury,  architectiure,  and 
popular  habits  of  those  days. 

In  the  Revue  du  Monde  CatJiolique  for  March, 
1866,  M.  Lecoy  de  la  Marche  has  an  interesting 
article,  in  which  he  examines  the  false  statement 
of  Michelet  concerning  the  supposed  ecclesiastical 
prohibition  of  baths  in  the  Middle  Ages.  M.  de 
la  Marche  shows  the  contrary  from  an  extended 
examination  of  the  lives  of  the  saints,  the  chron- 
icles, the  statutes  of  the  caretakers  of  baths,  the 
names  of  streets  and  the  like.  In  the  Archives 
for  the  Study  of  Austrian  History  for  the  year  1859 
Zappert  has  treated  at  length  the  question  of 
bathing  in  the  Middle  Ages  and  shown  the  fre- 
quency of  the  custom.  The  hot  air  and  vapor 
baths  of  the  Byzantine  peoples  were  adopted  by 
the  Mohammedans,  and  later  on  made  known  to 
the  peoples   of    Western  Europe    through  the 


BATHS  AND  BATHING  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES,    291 

Spanish  Arabs  and  the  Crusaders.  They  were 
in  great  demand  as  a  cure  of  leprosy,  and  com- 
petent authorities  state  that  after  the  beginning 
of  the  thirteenth  century  there  were  few  large 
cities  in  Europe  without  them.  Their  statutes 
are  well  known  to  us.  The  Jews  were  allowed 
to  visit  them  once  a  week.  Lepers  had  separate 
baths.  Men  and  women  were  not  allowed  to 
frequent  the  same  bath. 

Mediaeval  theologians  like  the  authors  of  the 
"  Summa  Angelica"  and  the  "  Summa  Aurea"  dis- 
cuss the  casuistry  of  the  bath,  and  thus  bear  wit- 
ness to  its  general  use.  Before  the  Reformation 
we  know  from  Erasmus  that  even  heated  baths 
were  common  in  Belgium,  Germany,  France,  and 
England,  where  they  were  called  hothouses.  It 
would  seem  that  they  were  commonly  adjoined 
to  inns,  and  Montaigne  speaks  of  them  as  exist- 
ing at  Rome  in  the  sixteenth  century. 

In  the  first  volume  of  Janssen's  "  History  of  the 
German  People  "  there  are  many  details  concern- 
ing the  popular  use  of  baths  in  Germany  during 
the  Middle  Ages.  Men  bathed  several  times 
each  day  ;  some  spent  the  whole  day  in  or  about 
their  favorite  springs.  From  the  20th  of  May 
to  the  9th  of  June,  1511,  Lucas  Rem  bathed  one 
hundred  and  twenty-seven  times,  as  we  may  see 


292    BATHS  AND  BATHING  IN  THE  CUDDLE  AGES. 

by  his  diary.  It  was  the  custom  to  eat  and 
drink  in  the  bath.  While  the  preachers  thun- 
dered in  the  churches  against  the  gay  young 
men  who  sat  in  the  baths,  mocked  holy  things, 
and  talked  civil  and  religious  heresies,  this 
gilded  youth  made  merry  and  sang  all  manner 
of  songs  and  catches. 

"  Aussig  Wasser,  innen  Wein 
Lasst  uns  alle  frohlich  sein." 

Grave  authors  of  the  sixteenth  century  like 
Gothofredus  and  ZypaBus  deplore  the  nude  bath- 
ing of  the  soldiers  in  the  neighborhood  of  the 
towns  and  oppose  to  it  the  ancient  and  more 
modest  customs  of  the  primitive  Romans. 

Lest  it  should  be  thought  that  this  frequency 
of  bathing  belongs  only  to  the  later  Middle  Ages, 
and  is  an  outcome  of  the  refinement  consequent 
upon  the  Crusades,  let  us  look  a  little  more 
closely  into  the  sentiments  of  the  early  Middle 
Ages  concerning  the  bath.  The  Council  of  Trullo, 
held  at  Constantinople  toward  the  end  of  the 
seventh  century,  forbids  the  promiscuous  bathing 
of  monks  or  laymen  with  persons  of  the  other 
sex,  which  implies  the  existence  and  use  of 
baths  under  certain  conditions  of  natural  mod- 
esty.    The  famous  Gottschalk,  a  monk  of   the 


BATHS  AND  BATHING  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES.    293 

ninth  century,  who  suffered  many  scourgings  and 
long  imprisonment  for  his  heretical  stubbornness, 
was  nevertheless  allowed  to  bathe  frequently,  as 
his  opponent,  Hincmar  of  Rheims,  testifies  in  a 
letter  to  the  Archbishop  of  Sens.  St.  Gregory 
of  Tours  in  the  sixth  century  speaks  of  the 
baths  attached  to  the  monastery  governed  by 
St.  Radegunda  at  Poitiers.  We  have  already 
seen  that  Gregory  the  Great  did  not  forbid 
Sunday  bathing,  and  we  fiind  one  of  his  suc- 
cessors, Nicholas  I.  (died  867),  enunciating  his 
views  of  bathing  in  the  very  remarkable  and 
valuable  document  known  as  the  ''  Replies  to  the 
Bulgarians,"  where  he  states  that  bathing,  when 
practised  for  sanitary  purposes,  has  nothing 
objectionable. 

If  Michelet  and  Renan  had  paid  any  attention' 
to  the  venerable  ^^  Liber  Pontificalis,"  they  would 
never  have  committed  the  error  in  question. 
This  ancient  book,  whose  origin  is  obscure,  but 
seems  to  be  somewhere  about  the  beginning  of 
the  sixth  century,  contains  short  lives  of  the 
popes,  with  a  brief  account  of  some  of  the 
events  of  each  reign,  from  St.  Peter  to  the  end 
of  the  ninth  century.  The  criteria  for  its  practical 
use  have  been  admirably  set  forth  by  the  Abbe 
Duchesne,  its  learned  editor.       In   this   ancient 


294    BATHS  AND  BATHING  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES. 

record  of  the  papacy  the  use  of  baths  at  Rome 
is  frequently  mentioned.  Constantine  is  said  to 
have  given  three  large  bathing  establishments  to 
Pope  Sylvester.  The  church  of  St.  Mary 
Major's  at  Rome  had  baths  attached  to  it  in  the 
middle  of  the  fourth  century  by  donation  of 
Pope  Liberius,  and  they  seem  to  have  been 
remodelled  a  century  later  by  Pope  Xystus  II. 
Pope  St.  Damasus  at  the  end  of  the  fourth 
century  gave  baths  to  the  new  parish  of  St. 
Lawrence  at  Rome,  and  similar  gifts  are  men- 
tioned as  made  by  Popes  Innocent  and  Hilary  in 
the  fifth  century.  Shortly  after  them  Pope 
Symmachus  gave  baths  to  the  church  of  St. 
Pancratius  and  opened  new  ones  behind  the 
church  of  St.  Paul. 

We  frequently  meet  these  ecclesiastical  baths  in 
the  succeeding  centuries.  Toward  the  end  of  the 
eighth  the  baths  of  St.  John  Later  an  and  St. 
Peter's  become  famous  in  Europe.  The  popes 
of  that  time  restore  the  ancient  aqueducts  to 
feed  those  baths,  build  approaches  and  staircases, 
line  the  halls  with  marble,  and  provide  accommo- 
dations for  the  poor  and  strangers.  Of  one,  Pope 
Hadrian  (died  795),  it  is  said  that  he  built  baths 
at  St.  Peter's,  '^  where  our  brethren,  the  poor  of 
Christ,   are  wont  to  bathe,'*  and  his  successor, 


BATHS  AND  BATHING  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES.    295 

Leo  III.  (died  816),  improved  greatly  this  same 
establishment. 

We  may,  therefore,  conclude  with  the  great 
scholar  and  canonist,  Van  Espen,  that  the  cus- 
tom of  bathing  was  never  forbidden  or  discour- 
aged by  the  Church  authorities.  The  Middle 
Ages  were  for  a  long  time  no  better  off  than 
antiquity  in  the  matter  of  bathing  accommo- 
dations. The  river,  lake,  or  pool  satisfied  peo- 
ple accustomed  to  live  in  the  open  air,  and  as 
yet  not  parked  off  in  monstrous  cities,  where 
the  last  remnant  of  individuality  is  menaced. 
But  the  Church  never  curtailed  their  natural 
freedom.  A  plehanus  or  rural  parish  priest  of 
the  time  of  Charlemagne  would  smile  at  such 
an  ignorant  assumption,  though  he  would  know 
that  some  abstained  from  bathing  by  a  spirit  of 
mortification,  and  that  the  Church  condemned 
certain  abominable  bathing  abuses.  If  you 
pressed  him  still  further  he  would  point  to  the 
mineral  springs  and  baths  of  France  and  Ger- 
many, which  had  not  to  wait  until  our  day  to 
be  discovered,  and  refer  his  interrogator  to 
Kome,  where  the  city  baths  and  the  church 
baths  played  so  large  a  share  in  the  daily  life 
of  the  city  of  the  Leos,  the  Stephens,  and  the 
Hadrians.    Perhaps  this  good  parish  priest  might 


296    BATHS  AND  BATBING  IN  THE  MIDDLE  AGES. 

have  heard  from  wandering  Keltic  missionaries 
of  the  famous  English  establishment  of  Bath, 
where  the  old  Roman  works  were  yet  preserved, 
or  even  of  the  famous  Holy  Well  of  St.  Wini- 
fred, in  Wales,  whither,  it  may  be,  both  insular 
and  continental  pilgrims  were  already  wont  to 
journey  for  the  purpose  of  bathing  in  this  splen- 
did and  beneficent  spring.  He  would  point  to 
the  universal  practice  of  the  good  King  Carl 
and  his  Franks  and  to  the  baths  at  Aachen,  and 
wonder  how  this  traveller  from  Altruria  had  got 
so  mixed  up  in  his  notions  of  mediaeval  culture 
as  to  imagine  that  the  contemporaries  of  Alcuin 
and  Einhardt  were  no  better  than  Digger 
Indians. 


CLERGY    AND    PEOPLE    IN    MEDIEVAL 

ENGLAND. 

It  is  with  great  satisfaction  that  we  see  ap- 
pHed  to  the  English  Middle  Ages  the  same  an- 
alytico-critical  methods  that  in  the  hands  of  a 
Taine  have  revolutionized  the  history  of  the 
French  Revolution,  in  the  hands  of  a  Janssen 
that  of  the  German  people  before  and  during 
the  Reformation,  and  in  those  of  a  Pastor  the 
beginnings  of  modern  papal  history.  Among 
the  ablest  and  most  useful  chapters  of  the  first 
volume  of  Janssen  is  that  which  deals  with 
ecclesiastical  teaching  and  preaching  in  the 
generation  that  preceded  the  appearance  of 
Luther.  Eusebius-like,  the  great  historian  does 
scarcely  more  than  link  together  the  numerous 
contemporary  and  public  evidences  of  official 
concern  for  the  religious  instruction  of  the 
people.  Whoever  peruses  those  pages  must 
admit  that,  whatever  else  was  wrong  in  Ger- 
man}^, there  was  then  no  dearth  of  religious 
instruction,  either  oral  or  printed. 

297 


298  CLERGY  AND  PEOPLE 

In  his  learned  and  timely  book,  "  The  Eve 
of  the  Reformation"  (London,  1900),  Dom  Gas- 
quet  comes  back  on  the  same  subject,  and  de- 
molishes for  England  the  same  old  calumny  — 
viz.  that  the  Catholic  clergy  were  so  sunk  in 
vice  and  ignorance  at  the  time  of  the  Reforma- 
tion that  the  latter  epoch  may  well  be  called  a 
very  sunburst  of  religious  knowledge.  In  his 
''  Essays  on  the  Reformation,"  Dr.  Samuel  Mait- 
land,  himself  an  Anglican,  had  already  shown 
what  lack  of  veracity,  what  unprincipled  lit- 
erary methods,  one  might  suspect  in  all  the 
earliest  Protestant  writers  on  the  English  Refor- 
mation, such  as  Strype,  Fox,  and  Bishop  Burnet. 
In  a  general  way,  Mr.  James  Brewer,  the  schol- 
arly editor  of  the  papers  of  Henry  YIII.  and 
historian  of  his  life,  concludes  as  a  result  of 
documentary  labors  at  first-hand  that  "  the  six- 
teenth century  was  not  a  mass  of  moral  corrup- 
tion out  of  which  life  emerged  by  some  process 
unknown  to  art  or  nature;  it  was  not  an  addled 
egg  cradling  a  living  bird ;  quite  the  reverse." 

In  Germany,  England,  and  the  Northern 
Kingdoms,  the  Reformation  was  a  work  very 
largely  of  cupidity  and  avarice ;  were  it  not  for 
the  fat  revenues  and  the  well-tilled  lands  of 
churches  and  abbeys,  the  old  religion  would  not 


IN  MEDIEVAL  ENGLAND.  299 

have  seen  arrayed  against  it  those  kings  and 
princes  who  made  the  fortune  of  the  Luthers 
and  the  Cranmers.  Nowhere,  except  in  the 
Peasants'  War  —  and  that  was  a  social  rebellion 
—  do  we  see  any  general  voluntary  upheaval  of 
the  people  against  the  venerable  figure  of  Ca- 
tholicism ;  brute  force,  the  treachery  of  its  own 
agents,  and  a  torrent  of  calumny  were  the  chief 
weapons  of  the  first  memorable  campaign  against 
the  authority  of  the  Church.  It  was  reserved 
for  a  later  period  to  justify  the  vast  rebellion  by 
pleading,  among  other  attenuating  causes,  the 
universal  neglect  of  their  pastoral  duties  by  the 
Catholic  clergy,  secular  as  well  as  regular,  in 
every  land  of  Europe. 

If  the  accusation  were  true  for  England,  it 
could  only  mean  a  general  violation  of  the  Eng- 
lish Church  law  as  established  in  many  synods 
and  promulgated  in  numerous  manuals  of  cleri- 
cal duty.  Thus  the  Synod  of  Oxford  in  1281 
decreed :  — 

"  We  order  that  every  priest  having  charge  of  a  flock  do,  four 
times  in  each  year  —  that  is,  once  each  quarter,  on  one  or  more 
solemn  feast-days  —  either  himself  or  by  some  one  else,  instruct 
the  people  in  the  vulgar  language,  simply  and  without  any 
fantastical  admixture  of  subtle  distinctions,  in  the  articles  of 
the  Creed,  the  Ten  Commandments,  the  Evangelical  Precepts, 
the  seven  works  of  mercy,  the  seven  deadly  sins  with  their  off- 
shoots, the  seven  principal  virtues,  and  the  seven  sacraments." 


300  CLERGY  AND  PEOPLE 

This  means  that  the  whole  cycle  of  Christian 
doctrine  had  to  be  expounded  to  the  people 
every  three  months ;  and,  lest  the  parish  priest 
be  in  doubt  as  to  the  character  of  the  instruc- 
tion, the  synod  insists  in  considerable  detail  on 
each  of  the  points  mentioned.  As  late  as  1466 
a  synod  of  the  province  of  York  reiterates  this 
decree  and  its  comment.  These  regular  and 
homely  talks  were,  of  course,  more  efficient  than 
formal  discourses ;  though  the  latter  were  not 
wanting,  as  may  be  seen  by  the  numerous  old 
volumes  of  mediaeval  sermons  yet  preserved. 
Neglect  to  assist  at  these  instructions  was  a 
matter  of  confession  for  the  penitent,  as  the 
carelessness  in  delivering  them  was  a  reproach 
to  the  parish  priest.  "If  you  are  a  priest," 
says  an  old  pre-Reformation  manuscript  in  the 
(Oxford)  Harleian  Library,  "  be  a  true  lantern  to 
the  people  both  in  speaking  and  in  living.  .  .  . 
Read  God's  law  and  the  expositions  of  the  holy 
doctors,  and  study  and  learn  and  keep  it ;  and 
when  thou  knowest  it,  preach  and  teach  it  to 
those  that  are  unlearned." 

So  great  was  the  concern  for  popular  religious 
instruction  that  this  duty  was  placed  above  that 
of  hearing  Mass.  Richard  Whitford,  the  Monk 
of  Sion,  writes  in  his  "  Work  for  Householders  " 


IN  MEDIEVAL  ENGLAND.  301 

(1530)  that  ^'  if  there  be  a  sermon  any  time  of 
day  let  them  be  present,  all  that  are  not  occu- 
pied in  needful  and  lawful  business.  All  other 
occupation  laid  aside,  let  them  ever  keep  the 
preachings  rather  than  the  Mass,  if  perchance 
they  may  not  hear  both."  That  most  popular 
of  the  fifteenth-century  manuals  of  religious 
instruction,  the  ^^  Dives  et  Pauper,"  says  that 
'^  by  preaching  folks  are  stirred  to  contrition 
and  to  forsake  sin  and  the  fiend,  and  to  love 
God  and  goodness.  ...  By  the  Mass  they  are 
not  so ;  but  if  they  come  to  Mass  in  sin  they  go 
away  in  sin,  and  shrews  they  come  and  shrews 
they  wend  awa}^  .  .  .  Both  are  good,  but  the 
preaching  of  God's  word  ought  to  be  more  dis- 
charged and  more  desired  than  the  hearing  of 
Mass." 

Similar  advice  is  found  in  such  works  as 
'^  The  Interpretatyon  and  Sygnyfycacyon  of  the 
Masse,"  by  Robert  Wyer  (1532) ;  in  "  The  Myr- 
rour  of  the  Church ; "  in  Wynkyn  de  Worde's 
"  Exornatorium  Curatorum  ;  "  and  in  the  "  Eng- 
lish Prymer,"  printed  at  Rouen  in  1538. 

It  has  often  been  said  and  written,  very 
falsety,  that  the  Catholic  clergy  of  the  Middle 
Ages  fostered  ignorance  and  superstition  in 
order   that   they   might    make    pecuniary   gain 


302  CLERGY  AND  PEOPLE 

therefrom ;  hence,  for  instance,  their  encourage- 
ment of  the  devotion  to  images,  particularly  to 
the  crucifix.  What  better  refutation  could  we 
ask  than  the  apposite  words  of  the  blessed 
martyr,  Sir  Thomas  More  ?  ^ 

"  The  flock  of  Christ  is  not  so  foolish  as  those  heretics  would 
make  them  to  be ;  for  whereas  there  is  no  dog  so  mad  that  he 
does  not  know  a  real  coney  from  a  coney  carved  and  painted,  yet 
they  would  have  it  supposed  that  Christian  people  that  have  rea- 
son in  their  heads,  and  therefore  the  light  of  faith  in  their  souls, 
would  think  that  the  image  of  Our  Lady  were  Our  Lady  herself. 
Nay,  they  be  not  so  mad,  I  trust,  but  that  they  do  reverence  to 
the  image  for  the  honor  of  the  person  whom  it  represents,  as 
every  man  delights  in  the  image  and  remembrance  of  his  friend. 
And  although  every  good  Christian  has  a  remembrance  of  Christ's 
Passion  in  his  mind,  and  conceives  by  devout  meditation  a  form 
and  fashion  thereof  in  his  heart,  yet  there  is  no  man,  I  ween,  so 
good  and  so  learned,  nor  so  well  accustomed  to  meditation,  but 
that  he  finds  himself  more  moved  to  pity  and  compassion  by  be- 
holding the  holy  crucifix  than  when  he  lacks  it." 

How  maliciously  the  first  Reformers  dealt 
with  the  common  people  is  strikingly  put  in  a 
discourse  of  Roger  Edgeworth,  a  preacher  of  the 
reign  of  Queen  Mary :  — 

"  Now  at  the  dissolution  of  the  monasteries  and  friars'  houses, 
many  images  have  been  carried  abroad  and  given  to  children  to 
play  with;  and  when  the  children  have  them  in  their  hands, 
dancing  them  in  their  childish  manner,  the  father  or  mother 
comes  and  says:  'What,  Nase,  what  have  you  there?'  The 
child  answers  (as  she  is  taught)  :  '  I  have  here  my  idol.'     Then 

1  "Salem  and  Bizance,"  a  dialogue  betwixt  two  Englishmen, 
whereof  one  was  called  Salem  and  the  other  Bizance.  London, 
Berthelet,  1533. 


IK  MEDIEVAL  ENGLAND.  303 

the  father  laughs  and  makes  a  g3,y  game  at  it.  So  says  the 
mother  to  another  :  '  Jagge  or  Tommy,  where  did  you  get  that 
pretty  idol  ? '  —  '  John,  our  parish  clerk,  gave  it  to  me,'  says  the 
child  ;  and  for  that  the  clerk  must  have  thanks  and  shall  not  lack 
good  cheer.  But  if  the  folly  were  only  in  the  insolent  youth  and 
in  the  fond,  unlearned  fathers  and  mothers,  it  might  soon  be 
redressed." 

In  the  very  popular  fifteenth-century  religious 
manual  already  referred  to,  the  "Dives  et  Pau- 
per/' the  devotion  to  the  crucifix,  and  especially 
the  Adoration  of  the  Cross  on  Good  Friday 
known  as  the  "  Creeping  to  the  Cross,"  is  ex- 
plained with  admirable  correctness  and  terseness. 
Few  modern  English  books  of  devotion  can 
boast  a  language  so  chaste  and  idiomatic,  or  so 
much  clearness  and  conciseness  of  statement,  or 
so  much  unction  and  pathos.  And  are  not  the 
following  lines  a  noble  paraphrase  of  the  great 
mediaeval  hymn  to  the  dolors  of  Jesus  Christ 
Crucified,  notably  the  "  Salve  Caput  Cruen- 
tatum  "  ? 

"  When  thou  seest  the  image  of  the  crucifix  think  of  Him  that 
died  on  the  cross  for  thy  sins  and  thy  sake,  and  thank  Him  for 
His  endless  charity  that  He  would  suffer  so  much  for  thee.  See 
in  images  how  His  head  was  crowned  with  a  garland  of  thorns 
till  the  blood  burst  but  on  every  side,  to  destroy  the  great  sin  of 
pride  which  is  most  manifested  in  the  heads  of  men  and  women. 
Behold  and  make  an  end  to  thy  pride.  See  in  the  image  how 
His  arms  were  spread  abroad  and  drawn  up  on  the  tree  till  the 
veins  and  sinews  cracked ;  and  how  His  hands  were  nailed  to  the 
cross  and  streamed  with  blood,  to  destroy  the  sin  that  Adam  and 


304  CLERGY  AND  PEOPLE 

Eve  did  with  their  hands  when  they  took  the  apple  against  God's 
prohibition.  Also  He  suffered  to  wash  away  the  sin  of  the  wicked 
deeds  and  the  wicked  works  done  by  the  hands  of  men  and 
women.  Behold  and  make  an  end  of  thy  wicked  works.  See  how 
His  side  was  opened  and  His  heart  cloven  in  two  by  the  sharp 
spear ;  and  how  it  shed  blood  and  water  to  show  that  if  He  had 
more  blood  in  His  body,  more  He  would  have  given  for  men's 
love.  He  shed  His  blood  to  ransom  our  souls  and  water  to  wash 
us  from  our  sins." 

In  the  fourteenth  and  fifteenth  centuries  man- 
uscript manuals  of  instruction  abounded  among 
the  clergy,  as  the  inventories  and  wills  of  the 
period  show.  Among  these  were  the  favorite 
''  Pars  Oculi  Sacerdotis,"  with  its  "  Dextra  "  and 
"  Sinistra  Pars ;  "  also  the  "  Pupilla  Oculi  Sacer- 
dotis/'  of  John  de  Burgo.  Similar  manuals  are 
among  the  precious  incunabula  of  the  English 
press.  In  his  valuable  work  on^, "  The  Old  English 
Bible"  (London,  1898),  Dom  Gasquet  has  gone 
over  in  detail  many  other  evidences  of  popular 
religious  instruction  in  pre-Reformation  Eng- 
land. The  written  sources  of  religious  edifica- 
tion were  accessible  not  only  to  the  common 
people  of  England,  but  also  to  those  of  Wales 
and  Ireland. 

Vernacular  prayer-books  continued  to  be  pub- 
lished in  Welsh  down  to  the  end  of  Henry's 
reign ;    even   later,   says   the   Rev.   J.    Fisher.  ^ 

1  "The  Private  Devotions  of  the  Welsh"  (London,  1898).  For 
similar  literature  in  Irish,  see  Douglas  Hyde's  "Literary  History  of 


IN  MEDIEVAL  ENGLAND.  305 

"It  is  rather  a  curious  fact/'  he  adds,  "that 
nearly  all  the  Welsh  manuals  of  devotion  and 
instruction,  of  any  size,  published  in  the  second 
half  of  the  sixteenth  and  the  first  half  of  the 
seventeenth  century  were  the  productions  of 
Welsh  Roman  Catholics  and  published  on  the 
Continent." 

The  researches  of  Janssen  and  others  have 
clearly  shown  that  originally  and  for  a  consider- 
able time  ecclesiastics  considered  the  printing- 
press  as  a  most  desirable  means  of  religious 
propaganda.  Bibles,  prayers,  sermons,  cate- 
chisms;  spiritual  exhortations,  examinations  of 
conscience,  reprints  of  popular  hand-books  of 
religion,  woodcuts  of  saints,  and  religious  art- 
works, issued  in  great  numbers  from  the  presses 
of  Cologne,  Paris,  Venice,  Eome,  and  other  cities. 
Their  titles  may  be  seen  in  the  repertories  of 
Hain,  Copinger,  and  Panzer. 

What  modern  journalism  does  for  the  artist 
of  the  twentieth  century  as  bread-giver,  that  was 
done  in  the  olden  times  by  churchmen,  who 
have  ever  looked  on  the  illuminated  page,  the 
decorated  book,  the  ecstasied  saint,  the  patient 
martyr,    as    true    "  helps "    to    religion.      King 

Ireland"  (New  York,  Scribners,  1899)  and  the  New  Ireland  Review, 
passim. 


306  CLEBGT  AND  PEOPLE 

Ethelbert  beheld  and  was  touched  by  the  picture 
of  Christ  that  Augustine  bore  at  the  head  of  his 
procession  of  monks  that  famous  day  in  Kent. 
And  we  are  told  that  the  rude  Bulgarian  chiefs 
were  first  moved  by  a  picture  of  the  Last  Judg- 
ment. In  the  judicious  words  which  follow, 
Dom  Gasquet  emphasizes  for  pre-Reformation 
England  a  similar  spiritual  preoccupation  on  the 
part  of  her  clergy  and  a  corresponding  earnest- 
ness on  the  part  of  the  Catholic  laity. 

"  In  taking  a  general  survey  of  the  books  issued  by  the  English 
presses  upon  the  introduction  of  the  art  of  printing,  the  inquirer 
can  hardly  fail  to  be  struck  with  the  number  of  religious  or  quasi- 
religious  works  which  formed  the  bulk  of  the  early  printed  books. 
This  fact  alone  is  sufficient  evidence  that  the  invention  which  at 
this  period  worked  a  veritable  revolution  in  the  intellectual  life 
of  the  world  was  welcomed  by  the  ecclesiastical  authorities  as  a 
valuable  auxiliary  in  the  work  of  instruction.  In  England  the 
first  presses  were  set  up  under  the  patronage  of  churchmen,  and 
a  very  large  proportion  of  the  early  books  were  actually  works  of 
instruction  or  volumes  furnishing  materials  to  the  clergy  for  the 
familiar  and  simple  discourses  which  they  were  accustomed  to 
give  four  times  a  year  to  their  people.  Besides  the  large  number 
of  what  may  be  regarded  as  professional  books,  chiefly  intended 
for  use  by  the  ecclesiastical  body,  such  as  missals,  manuals,  bre- 
viaries, and  horae,  and  the  primers  and  other  prayer-books  used 
by  the  laity,  there  was  an  ample  supply  of  religious  literature 
published  in  the  early  part  of  the  sixteenth  century. 

"In  fact,  the  bulk  of  the  early  printed  English  books  were  of 
a  religious  character;  and  as  the  publication  of  such  volumes 
was  evidently  a  matter  of  business  on  the  part  of  the  first  English 
printers,  it  is  obvious  that  this  class  of  literature  commanded  a 
ready  sale,  and  that  the  circulation  of  such  books  was  fostered 
by  those  in  authority  at  that  period.    Volumes  of  sermons,  works 


IN  MEDIEVAL  ENGLAND.  307 

of  instruction  on  the  Creed  and  the  Commandments, lives  of  the 
saints  and  popular  expositions  of  Scripture-history,  were  not  only 
produced,  but  passed  through  several  editions  in  a  short  space  of 
time.  The  evidence,  consequently,  of  the  productions  of  the  first 
English  printing-presses  goes  to  show  not  only  that  religious 
books  were  in  great  demand,  but  also  that,  so  far  from  discourag- 
ing the  use  of  such  works  of  instruction,  the  ecclesiastical  authori- 
ties actively  helped  in  their  diffusion." 

In  the  Middle  Ages  the  principles,  spirit,  ideals, 
and  aims  of  the  Church  had  so  interpenetrated 
the  popiTlar  life  that  only  the  smallest  part  of 
her  actual  teaching  was  represented  by  the 
spoken  and  the  written  word.  All  the  phenom- 
ena of  social  life  were  colored,  transfigured, 
by  the  spirit  of  religion.  The  public  square  — 
no  longer  forum  or  agora  —  was  like  an  enor- 
mous open-air  vestibule  to  the  cathedral,  parish, 
or  abbey  church.  On  it  the  dramatic  "mys- 
teries," processions,  "  penances,"  and  other  popu- 
lar forms  of  religious  life  were  enacted  with 
every  recurring  festival  of  high  or  low  degree. 
To  a  great  extent  it  was  the  church  of  the  people, 
in  which  they  executed,  not  without  love  and 
piety,  the  offices  of  their  own  rude  and  fantas- 
tic liturgy.  Within  the  churches  another  free 
and  large  liturgical  worship  displayed  its  charms, 
more  orderly  and  traditional,  yet  endlessly  new 
and  universally  artistic;  natural,  too,  like  the 
flowering  of  a  mountain  side  in  spring. 


308  CLERGY  AND  PEOPLE 

The  churches  themselves  were  huge  folios  in 
stone  —  "the  books  of  the  unlearned,"  easily 
read  by  people  yet  accessible  to  the  old  patris- 
tic mysticism  that  culminated  in  a  St.  Bernard, 
yet  looking  to  the  desert  as  a  refuge  from  the 
cosmic  sin  and  shame  of  life,  and  whose  native 
sense  for  symbolism  was  undulled  by  the  scholas- 
tic formalism  of  a  later  time.  There  was  every- 
where a  picturesque  and  plastic  ''  public  prayer" 
under standed  of  all,  whose  multitudinous  social 
influences  Dom  Gueranger  and  his  Benedictine 
school  have  admirably  illustrated  for  the  last 
forty  years.  Painting  and  sculpture  and  music 
—  all  the  Muses,  in  fact  —  began  anew  their  ca- 
reers in  the  shadow  of  such  great  ministers  as 
Strasburg,  Freiburg,  Rheims,  Westminster,  and 
Chartres.  A  hundred  minor  arts,  the  "  Klein- 
kiinste,"  acted  as  ordinary  skilled  tutors  to  eye 
and  hand  and  brain,  potently  and  sweetly  draw- 
ing forth  every  latent  capacity  of  race  or  family 
or  surroundings  or  traditions.  Something  holy 
and  soulful  they  infused  into  every  product  of 
man's  handiwork,  something  highly  personal 
and  unique,  stifling  in  every  raw  material  the 
coarse  and  deathly  grossness  of  it,  which  else 
had  led  the  Middle  Ages,  as  all  others,  into 
idolatry.     Let   the   Catholic    reader,    especially, 


IN  MEDIEVAL  ENGLAND.  309 

meditate  deeply  on  what  John  Ruskin  has  writ- 
ten concerning  the  artistic  life  of  mediseval  Flor- 
ence and  Venice. 

In  these  and  many  other  ways  the  medigeval 
peoples  enjoyed  a  religious  teaching,  at  once 
living,  pleasing,  artistic,  manifold  ;  the  outcome 
of  a  deep  and  universal  conviction  that  this 
world  and  life,  though  good,  were  transitory; 
that  man  had  an  immortal  soul  for  which  he 
was  responsible  to  a  beneficent  but  just  Creator ; 
that  society  had  its  end  in  God,  its  saviour  and 
ensample  in  Jesus,  its  nurse  and  guide  in  the 
Church.  Folly  and  turbulence  and  grossness 
and  ignorance  there  were,  of  course.  But  those 
peoples  were  not,  like  us,  incapable  of  hearing 
or  appreciating  divine  warnings.  The  passion 
of  gigantic  wealth  was  not  in  them  ;  they  would 
not,  if  they  could,  turn  the  world  into  one  work- 
shop and  poison  the  pure  air  of  heaven  with  the 
filth  and  the  darkness  of  the  breath  of  avarice. 
We  may  well  look  back  to  them  as  we  meditate 
on  the  probable  issue  of  the  principles  and  forces 
that  are  idolized  to-day  —  Plutus  and  Mammon 
and  the  minor  gods  that  serve  them. 

The  mediaeval  people,  though  violent  and 
narrow,  because  37oung,  were  not  draped  in  a 
stoical  self -righteousness  nor  sunk  in  a  practical 


310  CLERGY  AND  PEOPLE 

atheism;  neither  had  they  our  Judaic  stiffness 
of  neck  and  hardness  of  heart.  Sanabiles  fecit 
nationes  —  it  is  possible  to  heal  the  fevers  of  life 
—  they  thought.  But  it  could  be  done  only  by 
a  divine  Physician,  working  at  the  true  roots  of 
evil  and  misery  —  the  mind's  darkened  eye  and 
the  heart's  perverted  inclinations.  This  is  why 
they  all  held  so  firmly  to  the  heavenly  pedagogy 
of  tears,  contrition,  compunction,  satisfaction, 
and  lifelong  sorrow;  why  they  produced  those 
good  works  of  art  and  charity  whose  splendor 
yet  attracts  and  consoles  us.  All  told,  are  we 
more  moral  and  holy  than  the  men  of  the  age  of 
St.  Louis  of  France  and  St.  Francis  of  Assisi  ? 


THE  CATHEDRAL-BUILDERS  OF 
MEDIEVAL  EUROPE. 

If  we  observe  ourselves  and  the  multitudinous 
life  about  us,  we  shall  all  agree  that  most  of 
what  is  typical,  characteristic  of  our  own  gen- 
eration, perishes  with  us.  Man  is  largely  a 
thing  of  the  present.  Most  of  his  time  is  spent 
in  fighting  off  decay  and  death,  that,  neverthe- 
less, press  on  him  with  the  slow  and  certain 
speed  of  the  Alpine  glacier.  Of  the  popular 
daily  life  of  the  middle  of  the  last  century,  only 
reminiscences  remain ;  and  when  those  are  gone 
whose  hearts  and  minds  still  retain  vivid  im- 
pressions of  the  past,  the  tide  of  oblivion  makes 
swifter  haste,  and  soon  obliterates  all  but  the 
most  striking  landmarks,  those  great  events  and 
institutions  that  are  the  common  property  of  a 
race  or  a  nation.  Even  literature,  though  it  is 
usually  said  to  hold  the  most  sacred  experiences 
of  every  people,  is  only  a  fragment  of  fragments, 
retains  but  a  tithe  of  the  passions,  the  hopes, 
the  struggles,  the  triumphs  and  glories,  that 
made  up  the  sum  of  life  as  it  was  actually  lived 

311 


312  THE  CATHEDRAL-BUILDEBS 

by  men  and  women.  As  far  as  the  past  is  con- 
cerned, we  walk  amid  shadows  and  reflections, 
in  an  ever  deepening  twilight. 

This  thought  is  of  some  importance  when  we 
look  back  over  the  thousand  years  of  the  Middle 
Ages  for  some  great  convincing  illustration  of 
the  spirit  and  scope  of  Catholicism,  something 
that  shall  be  as  strictly  its  own  work  as  the 
Homeric  chants  or  the  marbles  of  the  Parthenon 
are  the  work  of  the  Greek  soul,  the  great  roads 
of  Europe  and  the  Code  of  Justinian  the  product 
of  the  genius  of  Rome.  Catholic  Christianity  in 
that  thousand  years  of  the  Middle  Ages  domi- 
nated fully  and  freely  the  life  of  European  man- 
kind. What  legacy  has  it  left  the  human  race, 
at  once  monumental  and  unique,  useful  and 
holy,  worthy  of  its  own  claims,  and  comparable 
with  those  remains  by  which  we  judge  other 
religions  that  lay,  or  once  did  lay,  claim  to 
universal  acceptance  ?  Say  what  we  will,  make 
what  appeal  we  will  to  the  social  benefits  of  a 
religion,  its  written  documents  of  a  literary 
character  or  value,  its  political  uses,  its  success- 
ful moulding  over  of  the  common  heart,  its 
answers  to  the  eternal  questions  of  the  soul,  the 
common  conscience,  its  upbuilding  of  the  spirit- 
ual man,  individually  and  collectively  —  develop 


OF  MEDIEVAL  EUROPE.  313 

all  these  admirable  arguments  as  we  will,  there 
remains  the  deep  and  just  query  :  What  monu- 
ments has  it  left  behind  ? 

The  hand  of  man  is  very  cunning,  and  tends 
very  naturally  to  fashion  in  some  public  and 
permanent  manner  the  ideals  that  the  brain  has 
conceived  and  the  heart  cherished.  The  most 
refined  Greek  ethnicism  had  its  Acropolis  at 
Athens,  its  Temple  of  Diana  at  Ephesus. 
Roman  ethnicism  had  its  Temple  of  Fortune 
at  Prasneste,  its  Coliseum  at  Kome.  Those 
philosophies  of  life  that  are  as  religions  to  the 
followers  of  Confucius  and  Buddha  have  each 
flowered  in  a  peculiar  art  that  may  seem  fan- 
tastic to  us,  but  has  yet  an  intimate  relationship 
with  the  doctrines  that  it  glorifies  and  perpetu- 
ates. General  doctrines,  that  have  got  them- 
selves lived  out,  large  and  constant  views  of  the 
meaning,  uses,  and  end  of  human  life,  usually 
blossom  out  in  great  monuments,  almost  as  natu- 
rally as  the  thought  of  the  brain  leaps  to  the 
tongue  and  clamors  for  expression. 

It  was  as  a  religion  that  Catholicism  domi- 
nated the  Middle  Ages.  The  natural  monu- 
ments of  a  religion  are  its  temples.  You  may 
simplify  a  religion  as  you  will,  curtail  its  func- 
tions, reduce  its  influence  —  but  so  long  as  it 


314  THE  CATHEDBAL-BUILDEBS 

pretends  to  bind  man  with  his  Maker,  so  long 
will  it  need  places  of  meeting  for  its  people,  and 
so  long  will  it  set  up  therein  some  symbol  or 
symbols  of  its  creed. 

The  refined  paganism  of  Greece  and  Rome, 
with  which  Catholicism  came  into  conflict,  had 
such  popular  centres  of  worship  —  the  temples 
and  shrines  of  its  gods.  But  paganism  had  noth- 
ing truly  spiritual  about  it.  It  was  all  based 
on  fear  of  its  deities,  was  a  religion  solely  of  low 
and  coarse  propitiation,  a  mass  of  deceptive 
practices,  a  double  religion  —  base  superstition 
for  the  multitude,  quasi-agnosticism  for  the  ele- 
vated classes.  It  had  no  fixed  doctrine  to  preach. 
It  had  no  central  fire  of  love  to  which  all  were 
bidden,  no  mystic  banquet,  no  divine  revelation 
to  communicate.  Hence,  its  temples  were  only 
abodes  of  the  mysterious  deity.  He  alone  dwelt 
behind  marble  walls,  within  which,  as  a  rule, 
only  the  priest  went  and  the  needed  servants. 
Outside,  on  the  temple-square,  stood  the  multi- 
tudes, watching  the  evisceration  of  sheep  and 
oxen,  or  the  other  mummeries  of  paganism,  but 
utterly  without  any  serious  share  in  the  act  of 
religion  that  was  entirely  the  affair  of  the  priests 
and  the  magistrates,  a  State  act. 

With  the  Christians,  from  the  very  beginning. 


OF  MEDIEVAL  EUROPE.  315 

it  was  otherwise.  They  were  one  body  with 
Jesus  Christ,  their  mystic  head.  They  had  been 
all  born  again  in  Him,  and  the  true  death  was 
to  lose  that  new  higher  life.  They  were  destined 
to  union  with  Him  in  eternity.  They  had  His 
history  in  four  little  books,  and  the  letters  of  His 
first  agents,  the  apostles.  He  had  fixed  a  cer- 
tain form  for  their  meetings,  that  were  to  be  very 
frequent,  and  at  which  all  who  confessed  His 
name  should  assist  and  partake  of  a  divine  ban- 
quet that  was  none  other  than  His  own  body 
and  blood. 

So  the  Christians  needed  a  large,  free  space, 
where  all  could  see  one  another,  where  all  could 
hear,  where  access  w*as  easy  to  the  eucharistic 
table  or  altar,  around  which  the  ministers  of  the 
banquet  could  serve  the  presiding  officer  and 
distribute  to  all  the  assistants,  in  an  orderly  way, 
the  celestial  food.  The  God  of  the  Christians 
was  no  longer  far  away.  He  was  with  them 
day  and  night.  He  spoke  to  them  all  with 
equal  love,  and  demanded  from  all  an  equal 
service.  In  other  words,  the  doctrine  of  the 
Blessed  Sacrament,  of  the  Real  Presence,  de- 
manded at  once  and  created  all  the  essentials 
of  a  Christian  church,  such  as  they  are  found 
in  the  catacombs  and  such  as  they  will  exist  as 


316  THE  CATHEDRAL-BUILDEES 

long  as  the  religion  itself  —  a  table  for  the  sac- 
rifice, a  space  for  its  ministers,  an  open  space 
sufficient  for  the  assistants,  light  for  the  per- 
formance of  the  mysteries  in  which  all  were 
sharers  and,  in  a  true  but  mysterious  sense, 
actors,  light  also  for  the  reading  of  the  gospels, 
the  Old  Testament,  the  letters  from  distant 
brethren,  the  accounts  of  martyrdom.  In  time, 
the  pagan  had  to  be  kept  out,  the  novice  ad- 
mitted slowly,  the  unfaithful  excluded  and  chas- 
tised for  a  time,  the  goods,  deposits,  plate, 
records,  of  the  little  communities  stored  away. 
Thus  vestibules,  courts,  and  sacristies  were 
added.  Thus,  too,  arose,  almost  in  the  Cenacle, 
the  first  Christian  Church',  all  whose  essential 
elements  are  curiously  enough  foreshadowed  in 
the  Apocalypse  —  indeed,  in  the  holy  Temple 
of  Jerusalem  itself. 

It  is  a  long  and  charming  chapter  in  the  his- 
tory of  the  fine  arts  how  the  typical  Catholic 
Church  grew  up.  There  was  the  upper  room  in 
the  residence  of  the  principal  Christian  of  the 
community;  perhaps,  too,  they  hired  occasion- 
ally a  public  hall  or  reading-room.  Then  came 
the  little  chamber  of  some  cemetery  where  an 
illustrious  martyr  lay.  When  freedom  came, 
there  was  the  little  overground  chapel,  with  its 


OF  MEDIEVAL  EUROPE.  317 

triple  apse  and  its  roofless  but  enclosed  court- 
yard, just  over  the  martyr's  resting-place ;  then 
the  vast  Eoman  halls  of  justice  were  abandoned 
to  them.  Sometimes  the  temples  were  trans- 
formed for  Christian  service.  Soon  they  built 
their  own  —  at  Rome  St.  Peter's  and  St.  Paul's, 
the  "  Great  Church "  at  Carthage,  the  "  New 
Church "  at  Antioch,  at  Tyre.  Emperors  paid 
for  them,  and  crossed  the  world  to  assist  at  their 
dedication.  They  were  often  of  the  style  of  the 
Roman  courts  of  justice  known  as  basilicas; 
again  they  were  octagonal  or  round.  Every 
city,  every  village,  had  its  own.  But  whatever 
their  form  or  material,  they  were  places  of  meet- 
ing for  a  community  of  men  and  women,  there- 
fore roomy  and  lightsome.  By  reason  of  the 
great  central  act  of  the  religion,  they  were 
decently  ornamented,  provided  with  an  elevated 
altar,  beneath  which  lay  the  body  of  some  dis- 
tinguished martyr  or  confessor  of  Christ,  whose 
death  was  the  pledge  of  final  victory  over  a  bad 
and  unjust  society,  a  seal  of  hope,  an  assurance 
that  with  faith  in  Jesus  Christ  lay  the  only  cer- 
tainty of  eternal  life. 

The  first  great  Christian  churches  were  owing 
to  the  constructive  skill  of  Roman  architects  and 
builders.     They  embodied  the  best  traditions  of 


318  THE  CATHEDRAL-BUILDERS 

imperial  architecture,  such  at  least  as  had  sur- 
vived into  the  fourth  century.  That  they  were 
not  in  absolute  decay  may  be  seen  from  the 
splendid  ruins  of  the  Palace  of  Diocletian  at 
Salona.  But,  given  the  collapse  of  Roman 
power,  the  great  building-arts  could  not  long 
survive.  Their  traditions  were  easily  lost  for 
want  of  exercise.  In  the  Christian  Orient  per- 
haps they  lived  on  much  longer,  in  Greek  Con- 
stantinople, and  the  remnants  of  the  Roman 
power  that  Islam  did  not  absorb.  But  in  the 
West  a  mysterious  transformation  took  place. 
We  quit  the  sixth  century  holding  on  to  tradi- 
tions of  classical  forms  and  workmanship  at 
Rome  and  Ravenna,  but  we  emerge  into  the 
seventh,  in  possession  no  longer  of  what  is 
known  as  Roman  architecture,  but  of  what  the 
historians  of  art  are  agreed  to  call  Romanesque. 
For  five  hundred  years  nearly  all  the  churches 
of  Europe  are  ranged  in  this  category.  We 
have  no  longer  in  their  purity  the  solemn,  long 
nave  of  the  basilica,  with  its  noble  monolith 
pillars,  tied  by  correct  round  arches,  on  which 
rests  the  main  roof,  while  the  altar  is  in  the 
apse,  that  is  solidly  built  up  and  holds  on  its 
own  semicircle  of  brick  its  suitable  roof.  If 
side-naves  are  needed,  they  are  added  from  with- 


OF  MEDIEVAL  EUROPE,  319 

out,  with  their  own  columns,  low  roofs,  arid  en- 
closing walls.  In  place  of  such  majestic  build- 
ings that  retained  no  little  of  the  majesty  of 
imperial  Rome,  and  of  which  a  specimen  may 
yet  be  seen  at  Trier  on  the  Moselle,  or  even  in 
some  Roman  churches,  we  get  smaller  edifices. 
For  the  great  monolith  column  there  are  low 
pillars,  often  made  of  separate  stone  drums. 
The  arches  are  lower,  more  squatty,  and  depend 
on  very  thick  walls  for  their  support.  The  open 
upper  roof  of  the  old  basilica  gives  way  to  a  few 
narrow  windows,  mere  apertures,  but  decorated 
with  pretty  colonnettes.  An  inside  gallery,  low 
and  narrow,  runs  around  the  church  just  over 
the  pillars.  A  low  roof  made  of  wooden  beams 
gives  an  air  of  dimness  and  depression  to  the 
whole  edifice. 

Where  did  the  Christian  architects  of  Northern 
Italy,  in  whose  cities  it  surely  arose,  get  the 
essentials  of  this  style  ?  Did  a  school  of  genuine 
Roman  architects  and  builders  survive  the  down- 
fall of  their  State  and  culture?  Did  they  live 
on  Lake  Como,  and  perpetuate  there  the  skill 
and  cunning  in  building  of  their  Roman  ances- 
tors ?  Are  they  the  real  builders  of  the  first 
Lombard  churches,  the  originators  of  Roman- 
esque, that  afterward  was  carried  by  them  into 


820  THE  CArilEDUAL-BUILDKUS 

France,  and  Geniiany,  and  England,  in  which 
lands  ono  beauty,  one  utility  after  another,  was 
added,  until  such  glorious  old  churches  as  Worms, 
Speyer,  and  others  of  the  Rhineland,  were  cre- 
ated, until  St.  Ambrose  at  Milan,  St.  Michael's 
;it  Pavia,  and  many  others,  were  either  rebuilt 
anew  or  made  over  after  the  prevaihng  style? 
Or  is  \\\(\  Romanesques  churcli  the  result  of 
inh(MMied  barbarian  tastes  and  traditions  strug- 
gliiiu;  for  (expression  .-it  the  hands  of  men  yet 
raw  ill  [\n\  history  and  forms  of  architecture? 
Is  it  the  Greek  architect  of  Constantinople,  an 
exile,  or  a  left-over  from  the  ruinous  exarchate 
at  Ravenna.,  who  himself  executed,  or  gave  the 
first  inipiils(;  to  those  curious  buildings  in  which, 
all  over  Muropc;,  the  traditions  of  Old  Rome  are 
seen  to  underlie  a  number  of  new  principles  and 
suggestions  ?  Anyhow,  Christian  architecture 
from  Roman  became  European  by  way  of  the 
Romanesque.  Specimens  of  the  latter  soon 
arose  in  every  land.  The  Roman  architects 
and  builders  who  followed  St.  Augustine  to 
England,  St.  Boniface  to  Germany,  built  in  tliat 
style.  Those  who  crossed  the  Al|)s  at  tlir  bid- 
ding of  Charlemagne,  and  created  the  octagonal 
basilica  of  Aix-li-Cha-pelle  for  him,  showed  that 
they  were  masters  of  both  Byzantine  and   Ro- 


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oitj  df  BtoiDDe  im  tbe  We^  msd  &m  eilt^^  (Oif  Cmt- 
igjtiaMioic^^  jooL  tjbe  Ekstt,  weire  kepit  lo^  a  (OKDaositaaiLtt 
Hj  auod  deosBauitti  df  aJDL  tfait  pesttiaimied  to 
aamd  tibe  arit»  tiiLatt  ((kptamidl  ^qhol  iL 
It  is  mom  judl  esfiotML  hMe  A&Jt  tilieie  wjus 
JQDL  tine  jeaur  IKMM  jud.  a  gemier^  itermr  auDDt^m^ 
tliLe  dotisitoauii  pes^ples  dE  Ekmajpg  jit  itibe  ^onppoided 
aiffssieidlL  dE  idbte  end  dE  H&e  wiorM.  Neweirit&ie- 
Hess^  tHoe  two  luaaiidieid  j^^bsics  itluM  iblDbweol  «dliiii 
see  at  gtstteial  leiiv^  dE  lnioDniDauDL  inntemesits^  ow- 
m^  io  dtiher  ie9i3QB]i&  WiiiJiL  itSne  cmEzoii])^  <olE 
tine  Sldrthinwani^  l&e  la^  ^eta^es  df  ttke  did  dbsso- 
eal  wodd  dE   Gieeoe  wad  BoBDe  dibaqppeaured. 


322  THE  CATHEDBAL-BUILDEBS 

Latin  ceased  finally  to  be  a  spoken  tongue. 
The  new  vernaculars  made  out  of  it  began  to 
move  independently,  to  affect  a  higher  range 
of  activity.  With  these  new  instruments  of 
thought  the  life  of  the  peoples  of  Europe  takes 
on  a  new  character.  The  last  border-land  of 
the  old  and  the  new  is  reached.  Right  here 
Catholicism  entered  more  profoundly  than  ever 
into  the  lives  of  these  new  and  ardent  peoples. 
Their  wills  and  testaments  show  it.  The  popu- 
lation increased  rapidly,  new  churches  were  built 
in  great  numbers,  and  old  ones  were  restored  or 
enlarged.  Constant  demand  created  a  great 
supply  of  workmen.  The  intelligence  of  Italian 
and  Greek  architects,  and  the  devotion  and 
sacrifices  of  a  great  multitude  of  monks,  brought 
about  improvements  in  the  ordinary  Roman- 
esque. Little  by  little  it  graduated  into  the 
incomparable  Gothic.  The  round  arch  gave 
way  to  the  pointed  arch,  that  could  be  carried 
much  higher,  and  needed  for  its  support  no  thick 
and  cumbersome  walls,  only  a  sufficient  lateral 
resistance  or  pressure  to  prevent  it  from  falling. 
Now  the  heavy  stone  piers  could  be  reduced  in 
size,  the  massive  walls  could  be  thinned  down 
and  cut  out,  until  a  new  theory  stood  forth  in 
practice  —  the   building  was  no   longer  a  roof 


OF  MEDIEVAL  EUROPE.  323 

resting  on  heavy  walls  propped  up  by  thick 
piers  that  were  themselves  bound  and  dove- 
tailed into  the  walls.  It  was  now  a  great, 
open,  airy  framework,  in  which  the  tall  main 
arches  were  caught  precisely  at  their  weakest 
point  by  slender  but  strong  abutting  piers.  The 
roof  rested  partly  on  these  arches  thus  secured, 
partly  on  slight  but  strong  shafts  engaged  in 
the  masonry  of  the  great  arches  at  their  spring- 
ing point.  Across  the  nave  independent  arches 
were  thrown,  always  pointed,  that  showed  be- 
neath each  vault,  upheld  it,  and  produced  the 
new  and  artistic  effect  of  groining.  The  light 
spaces  of  the  clerestory  were  now  raised  and 
widened ;  the  spaces  between  the  great  lateral 
arches  were  also  broadened,  until  at  last  almost 
no  solid  wall  at  all  was  left,  nothing  but  the 
masonry  built  up  "beneath  the  huge  glass  win- 
dows to  support  their  weight,  and  enclose  the 
worshippers.  Here  at  last  was  something  abso- 
lutely new  in  architecture.  Some  modern  schol- 
ars maintain  that  its  first  suggestions  came  from 
Constantinople,  or  from  Christian  Antioch.  Be 
that  as  it  may,  it  was  the  genius  of  mediaeval 
Catholicism  in  the  West  that  caught  up  the  idea 
long  dormant.  In  Normandy  and  the  territory 
of  Paris  and  Orleans,  the  new  architecture  first 


324  THE  CATHEDRAL-BUILDERS 

spread.  It  is  not  German,  it  is  not  Italian  or 
English.  It  is  French  in  its  original  and  purest 
monuments.  When  we  look  at  the  cathedrals 
of  Chartres  and  Amiens,  we  see  its  loveliest 
chefs  d'oeuvre ;  when  we  go  through  the  an- 
cient towns  of  Normandy,  we  see  its  first  ex- 
amples. Here  in  the  north  of  France,  during 
the  first  fifty  years  of  its  development,  arose 
many  specimens  of  the  genuine  Gothic,  until 
all  Europe  caught  the  sacred  fire.  The  new  style 
spread  from  one  land  to  another,  was  modified 
somewhat  in  each,  reached  its  apogee  in  the 
early  part  of  the  fourteenth  century,  and  then 
fell  into  a  decline  and  disuse  that  it  has  re- 
covered from  only  in  the  last  century  through 
the  efforts  of  a  Pugin  in  England  and  that 
Romantic  movement  in  Germany  which  is  iden- 
tified with  the  completion  of  the  cathedral  of 
Cologne  and  the  names  of  Joseph  Gorres,  its 
philosopher,  and  August  Reichensperger,  its 
preceptor. 

•  The  mediaeval  cathedral,  house  of  prayer, 
museum,  gallery  of  art  works,  in  whatever  way 
we  look  at  it,  was  the  great  popular  enterprise 
of  that  period.  It  arose  gradually,  through 
several  generations,  and  is  the  true  mirror  of 
the  ideals  and  endeavors  of  our  mediasval   an- 


OF  MEDIEVAL  EUROPE.  325 

cestors.  It  famished  employment  for  the  major 
part  of  the  city's  craftsmen.  It  stirred  up 
rivalry  and  ingenuity,  and  brought  together 
on  one  site  a  multitude  of  workers  whose  com- 
bined experience  alone  could  raise  such  build- 
ings. Industry  and  commerce  flourished  around 
it,  good  taste  was  exercised  and  developed  by 
it  —  the  great  triumphs  of  painting  and  sculp- 
ture in  the  fifteenth  and  sixteenth  centuries 
are  only  the  flowering  of  the  good  seed  planted 
in  the  twelfth  and  thirteenth.  The  life  of  every 
family  in  the  city  was  intimately  bound  up  with 
the  great  monument  that  they  had  helped  to 
build.  Its  windows  held  the  portraits  of  their 
ancestors.  Their  arms  were  blazoned  on  many 
a  glorious  rose  or  chancel-light,  while  before 
the  altar  lay  buried  their  parents  and  relatives. 
When  Adam  Krafft  raised  his  ineffably  beautiful 
slender  tabernacle  for  the  Blessed  Sacrament  at 
Nurnberg,  that  reaches  from  floor  to  ceiling  of 
the  great  church,  he  built  it  on  the  backs 
of  bronze  figures  of  himself  and  his  assistants, 
each  with  his  master's  apron  and  tools.  From 
his  workshop  to  the  altar  of  God  there  was  but 
a  step  in  his  lifetime.  And  he  wished  it  to  be 
so  forever. 

It  is  the  cathedral  that  kept  alive  good  handi- 


326  TEE  CATHEDRAL-BUILDERS 

work,  for  all  the  domestic  architecture,  all  civic 
and  military  architecture,  of  the  period  is  based 
on  the  religious,  and  only  follows  it,  imitates 
it.  The  castle,  the  fortress,  the  city  palace,  the 
town-hall,  the  gates,  the  bridges,  the  guild-houses, 
all  the  civic  buildings,  copy  their  ornaments  and 
decoration  from  the  workshops  of  the  cathedral, 
when,  indeed,  they  were  not  built  by  the  same 
architects  and  workmen.  There  they  found  the 
infinite  variety  of  decoration,  the  models  of 
bronze  and  iron  work,  the  perfect  forms  ®f 
pointed  window  and  stone  mullion,  the  propor- 
tion of  stories  and  cornice,  the  proper  precautions 
for  the  roof  and  the  eaves,  the  charming  system 
of  fresco-coloring  and  painted  tile-work  that  lent 
to  every  old  'mediaeval  town,  like  Bruges  or  Frei- 
bm^g,  its  haunting  spiritualesque  beauty,  its  dis- 
tinctive cachet  of  personality. 

This  helps  to  explain  another  peculiarity  of 
the  great  Gothic  cathedrals.  They  had  no  ar- 
chitects in  our  modern  sense  of  the  word.  There 
was,  indeed,  a  great  head  whose  general  plans 
were  known  and  followed  out.  But  it  was  a 
time  of  master  ivorkmen.  Every  one  fit  to  do 
any  responsible  work  on  the  building  was  a  fin- 
ished artist  in  his  own  line.  Moreover,  he  had 
usually  a  heart  and  an  imagination,  those  true 


OF  MEDIEVAL  EUROPE.  327 

sources  of  spontaneity  and  inventiveness.  He 
had  a  personal  fondness  for  his  work,  and  a  great 
pride  in  being  a  responsible  agent  in  the  com- 
mon undertaking.  The  individual  workmen  had 
much  freedom  in  the  execution  of  their  details,  a 
circumstance  that  aided  notably  in  impressing  an 
air  of  distinction,  a  stamp  of  personal  inventive 
finish,  on  every  line  and  member  of  the  work. 
Around  such  buildings  as  Strasburg  and  Paris, 
that  were  slowly  carried  to  completion,  arose 
practical  schools  of  superior  masonry,  joiner  and 
cabinet  work,  framing  and  mortising,  carving  in 
wood  and  stone.  Originally  all  the  workmen 
formed  one  great  corporation,  but  in  time  the 
painters  and  the  sculptors  became  conscious  of 
their  own  importance,  and  established  indepen- 
dent guilds  or  crafts.  So  with  the  others.  But 
their  real  apprenticeship  had  been  on  the  huge 
pile  that  overtopped  everything  in  the  city,  and 
their  best  masterpieces  were  long  to  be  seen 
only  there.  Sometimes  one  family  worked  for 
two  hundred  years  or  more  at  one  particular  line 
of  occupation  in  the  same  building.  Thus,  all 
the  mosaic  altars  in  the  great  Certosa  at  Pavia 
were  built  from  father  to  son  for  two  hundred 
years  by  the  Sacchi  family.  A  moment's  reflec- 
tion will  show  that  in  such  cases  we  almost  touch 


328  THE  CATHEDBAL-BUILBERS 

with  the  hand  the  original  workmen  of  the  thir- 
teenth century.  Elsewhere,  in  Northern  Italy, 
one  family  bnilt  during  three  hundred  years 
nearly  all  the  fine  churches  of  a  whole  extensive 
neighborhood. 

It  is  not  enough  that  we  should  know  how  a 
great  cathedral  got  itself  built  up.  It  is  well  to 
know  how  it  was  administered  and  kept  together. 
After  all,  it  was  a  centre  of  good  government, 
when  good  government  was  rare.  At  its  head 
stood  the  bishop,  elected  for  life.  He  was  often 
a  sovereign  temporal  authority,  like  the  Bishop 
of  Durham  in  England,  or  the  great  German 
elector-bishops  of  Cologne,  Trier,  and  Mainz. 
In  any  case  his  authority  was  the  source  of  all 
rights,  and  his  will  the  normal  spring  of  admin- 
istration. For  many  centuries  all  his  clerics 
lived  with  him,  ate  at  the  same  table,  and  slept 
under  the  same  roof.  The  temporal  goods  of  the 
see  were  under  the  supervision  of  an  officer 
known  as  the  archdeacon,  who  also  looked  after 
the  clergy.  A  cathedral  school,  where  boys  were 
brought  up  as  in  a  seminary,  where  the  young 
choristers  were  trained,  was  attached  to  the  build- 
ing. Other  buildings  were  close  by,  apartments 
for  the  clergy  of  the  cathedral,  a  house  for  the 
guests,  the  pilgrims,  the  poor  penitent  travelling 


OF  MEDIEVAL  EUROPE.  329 

to  Kome  or  to  St.  James  in  Spain.  In  Eng- 
land a  noble  circular  hall,  whose  roof  "was 
upheld  by  a  single  pillar,  was  affected  to  the 
meetings  of  the  clergy  and  to  the  synods.  Nu- 
merous officials  were  on  the  personnel  of  the  cathe- 
dral—  a  master  of  the  choir  or  precentor  (a  very 
important  office),  a  chancellor  or  legal  adviser 
and  officer  of  the  diocese,  a  treasurer,  a  dean  or 
head  of  the  chapter  with  its  numerous  priests  or 
canons  bound  to  sing  the  psalms  at  fixed  times 
daring  the  day,  and  to  carry  on  the  services  of 
the  cathedral  according  to  the  laws  of  the  Church. 
A  great  number  of  laymen  were  usually  attached 
to  such  a  building  —  caretakers,  janitors,  laborers, 
bailiffs,  messengers  —  sometimes  the  family  of 
the  bishop  ran  up  to  many  hundred  heads.  A 
great  wall  was  often  drawn  about  the  whole 
establishment,  and  the  gates  closed  and  patrolled 
at  night  as  in  a  little  fortress.  With  daybreak 
began  the  round  of  divine  service  that  almost 
never  ceased,  the  space  between  the  High  Mass 
and  the  Evensong  or  Yespers  being  filled  up  with 
many  minor  and  local  ceremonies  of  great  inter- 
est—  in  England,  e.g.  the  distribution  of  the 
Holy  Loaf,  the  chanting  of  the  lovely  Bidding 
Prayer,  or  public  petitions  for  divine  mercy, 
the  calling  over  from  the  pulpit  of  the  Bede-Roll 


830  THE  CATHEDRAL-BUILDERS 

or  names  of  dead  benefactors,  the  chanting  of 
litanies,  the  conduct  of  processions,  and  a  hun- 
dred and  one  forms  of  religious  life  that  kept 
the  entire  clerical  force  on  their  feet  the  livelong 
day.  Besides  the  varied  religious  life  of  the 
cathedral  itself,  there  was  the  wonderful  social 
life  without  —  the  weekly  market,  the  pedlers 
and  tradesmen,  the  ale-house  that  often  belonged 
to  the  church,  the  great  breweries  for  a  people 
who  seldom  drank  water,  like  the  English  and 
the  Germans,  the  children  at  their  games,  the 
smithies  wide  open  and  resounding,  the  granaries 
and  stores  of  the  bishop.  Between  that  cathe- 
dral and  the  next  great  church,  there  were  only 
hamlets,  some  monasteries,  small  ones  maybe, 
and  an  occasional  nobleman's  castle  perched  in- 
accessible on  some  high  crag.  As  a  matter  of 
fact,  here  were  the  original  elements  of  mediaeval 
civil  life,  here  the  germs  out  of  which  grew  first 
most  mediaeval  cities  and  small  States  of  Europe, 
and  then  our  own  civilization.  When  a  man  of 
learning  and  distinction,  of  high  birth  and  great 
piety,  like  a  Grosseteste  of  Lincoln,  or  a  Maurice 
de  Sully  of  Paris,  or  an  Engelbert  of  Cologne, 
presided  over  such  a  work,  one  can  imagine  how 
close  to  ideal  contentment  the  life  of  his  people 
could  come. 


OF  MEDIEVAL  EUBOPE.  331 

The  decorations  and  furniture  of  the  cathedral 
corresponded  to  the  beauty  of  the  structure. 
The  altar  arose  on  marble  or  bronze  columns, 
sometimes  resting  on  couchant  lions  or  on  human 
figures.  Reliefs  in  marble  or  bronze  decorated 
it.  The  costliest  embroideries  and  laces  were 
made  for  it ;  stuffs  of  gold  brocade,  and  orna- 
mented with  precious  stones,  were  hung  upon  it, 
worth  a  king's  ransom.  Embroidered  frames, 
richly  painted  panels,  were  often  used  to  embel- 
lish it  on  high  festivals.  Often  a  great  balda- 
chino,  or  open  roof,  held  up  by  columns  of  costly 
material  covered  it.  In  Germany  and  elsewhere 
the  altar  worked  gradually  back  from  the  front 
line  to  the  wall  of  the  apse,  whither  the  relics 
were  taken.  In  time  they  were  put  upon  tlie 
altar  itself,  and  thus  arose  the  elegant  reredos. 
It  is  all  visible  in  the  painted  folding-doors  that 
may  yet  be  seen  —  lovely  work  by  the  schools  of 
Cologne  or  of  Bruges,  of  Hans  Memling  or  Al- 
bert Durer.  The  chalices  of  silver  and  gold  were 
gems  of  artistic  skill,  covered  with  precious 
stones,  engraved  in  niello,  heavy  with  pearls 
and  mosaic,  decorated  in  arabesque  or  filigree. 
Though  the  smallest  of  them  was  of  inestimable 
value,  yet  the  richest  was  looked  on  as  all 
too  unfit  for  the  holy  service  it  rendered.     From 


332  THE  CATHEDRAL-BUILDERS 

being  round  and  large  they  became  tall  and 
slender,  according  as  they  were  more  immediately 
for  the  personal  use  of  the  celebrant.  The  cibo- 
rium  for  the  communion  of  the  people,  the  pyx 
for  the  communion  of  the  sick,  the  monstrance 
for  the  benediction  of  the  Blessed  Sacrament, 
were  each  a  new  object  for  the  artist's  taste  and 
the  generosity  of  the  donor.  For  all  of  them 
the  pointed  arch  of  the  Gothic  fixed  the  shape 
and  the  details.  The  Mass  and  service  books 
were  of  enormous  size,  made  of  the  finest  parch- 
ment, illuminated  by  the  deftest  hands,  bound 
and  ornamented  with  lavish  fondness  and  a  skill 
never  since  surpassed.  Every  vessel  that  was  in 
any  way  connected  with  the  eucharistic  service 
became  at  once  an  art-object  —  the  censer,  the 
cruets,  the  basin,  and  even  the  candlesticks  and 
candelabra,  the  Mass  bells,  the  portable  crosses, 
the  reliquaries.  Even  when  done  in  iron  or 
brass,  like  the  massive  lecterns,  these  objects 
affected  the  most  exquisite  forms,  and  were  the 
starting-point  of  the  loveliest  work  that  later 
generations  expended  on  domestic  interiors,  or 
on  buildings  devoted  to  civic  purposes.  The 
baptismal  fonts,  round  or  octagonal,  offered 
the  sculptor  an  interesting  field  for  his  inven- 
tive genius,  and  even  the  well,  always  found  in 


OF  MEDIEVAL  EUROPE.  333 

the  cathedral  cloister  or  close,  was  often  seized 
on  for  purposes  of  sculptural  decoration.  The 
empty  spaces  in  the  cathedral  were  gradually 
filled  with  splendid  family  tombs  of  marble  or 
bronze,  on  which  the  symbolism  of  religion  and 
heraldry  disputed  the  palm  with  the  truth  and 
vividness  of  portraiture  and  history.  The  dead 
bishop  and  his  canons  were  in  time  remembered 
for  their  services  or  their  legacies.  Thus  every 
cathedral  was  soon  a  city  of  the  dead,  where  the 
effigies  of  priest  and  layman,  of  abbess  and  noble 
dame,  looked  down  from  their  silent  places  on 
the  ebb  and  flow  of  the  human  life  that  they  had 
once  graced  and  enlivened.  Never  was  there  a 
more  moving  and  romantic  lesson  of  the  tran- 
sient nature  of  life  than  these  great  cathedral- 
spaces  in  their  first  days  when  the  dead  builders 
stared  on  the  living,  and  the  living  felt  that  day 
by  day  they  were^  only  drawing  closer  to  the 
beloved  dead.  Over  them  all  there  is  even  yet 
something  of  a  sacrosanct  Christian  fondness  — 
the  knight  cherishes  yet  his  falcon  or  his  hound  ; 
at  the  feet  of  the  sweet  chatelaine  is  yet  carved 
the  little  spaniel,  the  companion  of  her  leisure 
and  the  witness  of  her  womanly  virtues. 

The  railings  of  the  choir,  and  the  screens  to 
separate  it  from  the  people,  the  screens  for  the 


334  THE  CATHEBEAL-BUILDEBS 

• 

altar  itself,  the  pulpit,  the  tabernacle,  the  read- 
ing desks  for  the  daily  office,  the  organ  fronts, 
the  stalls  for  the  canons,  the  marble  pavement, 
the  entire  furniture  of  the  cathedral,  were  turned 
over  to  the  artists  as  an  inexhaustible  province 
for  their  skill  and  genius. 

Two  great  arts  formed  a  congenial  home  in  the 
Gothic  cathedral  —  the  art  of  painting  and  the 
art  of  sculpture.  The  mediaeval  man  was  color- 
mad.  We  see  the  relics  of  his  great  monuments 
in  a  faded  or  colorless  garb.  When  they  issued 
from  the  hands  of  the  architects  and  artists  they 
were  far  different.  The  roof  of  the  cathedral 
was  finished  in  colored  tiles  —  red,  blue,  green  — 
often  in  tasty  designs.  The  walls  within  were 
tinted  in  fresh  and  pleasing  colors,  the  carvings 
of  the  capitals  brought  out  in  red  and  blue  and 
gold ;  in  the  vaults  the  groined  ribs  of  stone  were 
similarly  treated,  —  the  doorways  were  painted 
and  gilded,  the  pavements  often  done  in  mosaic, 
or  in  geometric  patterns  of  colored  marbles,  the 
ceilings  a  deep  blue,  often  dotted  with  little 
golden  stars.  Compositions  of  great  size  often 
adorned  the  vacant  spaces  —  here  the  "  Madonna 
and  Child,"  there  "  St.  Christopher  bearing  the 
Christ-Child,"  here  the  "  Dance  of  Death  "  with  its 
stern  comment  on  the  vanity  of  human  life,  else- 


OF  MEDIEVAL  EUROPE,  335 

where  the  prophets  and  apostles,  or  martyrs  and 
holy  virgins  and  confessors,  met  the  eye.  Some- 
times the  interior  is  cold  and  severe,  as  at  Mar- 
burg, and  again  a  great  blaze  of  blue  and  gold 
and  red  as  at  Assisi.  It  was  the  experience  thus 
gained  that  prepared  the  way  for  the  lovely 
Madonnas  of  the  artists  of  Cologne  and  Bruges 
in  the  fifteenth  century,  the  work  of  a  Master 
Schongauer  and  a  Hans  Memling,  without  which 
a  Durer  and  a  Raphael  would  be  unintelligible. 

Nevertheless,  the  real  immortal  painting  of  the 
Gothic  cathedral  is  not  the  fresco,  no  matter  how 
perfect.  It  is  always  somewhat  out  of  place  and 
distracts  the  attention  from  the  sublime  simplicity 
of  the  architectural  lines,  from  the  religious  se- 
verity of  the  tall  open  arches  and  the  sombre 
masses  of  stone.  Its  true  and  natural  painting  is 
the  great  glass  window.  Indeed,  when  finished, 
a  genuine  Gothic  monument  is  like  a  vast  trans- 
parent house  of  glass.  Originally  the  aim  of  the 
artist  in  colored  glass  was  to  give  the  impression 
of  a  great  piece  of  tapestry  covering  the  open 
space  and  toning  down  the  garish  light  of  day. 
Such  tapestries  had  been  much  used  in  the  earlier 
Romanesque  churches,  and  were  one  great  source 
of  artistic  education  in  the  numerous  nunneries. 
The  bits  of  glass  were  put  together  like  a  mosaic. 


o 


36  THE  CATHEDRAL-BUILDERS 


each,  a  separate  bit,  and  leaded  to  one  another. 
All  drawing  was  in  outline.  It  was  a  handsome 
shining  tapestry  that  the  artists  desired  to  pro- 
duce, and  such  is  always  the  efect  of  the  best 
glass,  as  at  Chartres  and  Cologne.  Later,  as  the 
windows  became  only  frames  for  the  imitation  of 
painting  in  oil,  the  original  artistic  reason  of  the 
great  glass  windows  was  forgotten.  The  acces- 
sory had  become  the  principal. 

Although  in  the  treatment  of  artistic  glass,  as 
in  other  details,  there  was  in  the  fourteenth  and 
fifteenth  centuries  a  rapid  decline  of  intelligence 
and  pure  taste,  one  great  effect  was  retained  in 
every  church  that  could  at  all  call  itself  Gothic  — 
an  abundance  of  light,  but  toned  down,  softened, 
robbed  of  all  its  heat  and  blare  and  vulgarity. 
An  air  of  religious  mystery  was  thus  created 
throughout  the  vast  building,  in  which  all  things 
were  seen  indeed,  but  dimly  and  with  a  constant 
suggestion  of  the  beyond,  of  a  glory  and  a  majesty 
to  which  these  walls  were  but  the  vestibule. 
The  city  streets  usually  led  up  to  the  great  por- 
tals of  the  cathedral,  so  much  so  that  in  time  the 
lofty  transept  became  almost  a  highway  for  the 
ordinary  foot-traffic  of  the  community.  The 
mighty  collective  work  of  the  population  was 
ever  in  their  very  heart,  a  thing  of  beauty  and 


OF  MEDIEVAL  EUROPE,  337 

joy,  all  fresh  and  sharp  in  its  carved  surfaces,  all 
grace  and  slender  elegance  in  the  upward  sweep 
of  its  arches,  its  roof,  its  towers  and  spires,  all 
solidity  in  its  immovable  piers  and  locked  but- 
tresses, all  variety  in  the  flashing  colors  of  the 
tiled  roofs  and  spires,  the  native  hues  of  the  local 
freestone  or  granite,  the  broken  lines  of  the  ex- 
ternal framework,  all  utility  in  the  thousand  uses 
of  daily  life  for  which,  little  by  little,  every  mem- 
ber of  the  splendid  pile  had  been  excogitated,  all 
harmony  in  the  blending  of  imperishable  mate- 
rial, plastic  forms,  moulding  genius  —  one  mighty 
architectonic  idea  imprisoned,  but  barely  impris- 
oned, throbbing  day  and  night  with  a  celestial 
music  akin  to  that  vfhich  the  starry  spheres  are 
said  to  emit  in  their  courses.  Its  glorious  chimes 
flung  out  the  praises  of  God  from  a  perfect  metal, 
the  like  of  which  has  never  been  reproduced  in 
later  centuries.  But  the  showering  melodies  that 
they  loosened  in  the  upper  air  were  as  silence 
compared  with  the  voice  of  the  vast  mass  itself. 
It  was  one  great  psalm  of  praise  and  prayer  — 
the  incarnation,  as  it  were,  of  the  divine  psalmody 
that  went  ceaselessly  on  beneath  its  fretted  and 
painted  vaults.  Not  without  reason  has  such  a 
building  been  called  a  poem  in  stone.  No  ordi- 
nary poem  indeed,  but  a  solemn  epic,  in  which  all 


338  THE  CATHEDBAL-BUILDEBS 

the  uses  of  life  are  transfigured,  smelted  into 
unity,  uplifted  and  set  in  living  contact  with 
the  common  Father  in  heaven.  Chartres  and 
Amiens,  Eheims  and  Rouen,  Cologne  and  Mar- 
burg, are  as  surely  the  interpreters  of  Catholicism 
in  the  Middle  Ages  as  St.  Thomas  and  Dante  — 
nay,  in  one  sense  more  so  —  for  such  solitary 
voices  appealed  largely  to  the  reason,  or  to  the 
reasoning  fancy,  v^hereas  the  Gothic  cathedral 
soars  at  once  beyond  the  weak  discursive  or  ana- 
lytic methods,  appeals  at  once  to  the  common 
heart  of  the  city,  the  multitude,  to  all  its  common 
emotions,  all  its  collective  experiences.  It  calls 
out-  all  the  idealism  latent  in  the  most  sluggish 
soul.  The  history  of  the  Catholic  Church,  seen 
from  the  proper  view-point,  is  one  of  her  greatest 
arguments,  one  of  the  deepest  sources  of  her  the- 
ology and  her  discipline.  But  its  true  folios  are 
not  the  dusty  volumes  that  lie  upon  the  shelves 
of  libraries.  They  are  rather  those  great  religious 
buildings  of  the  Middle  Ages,  every  one  of  which 
was  a  forum  for  the  broadest  discussions  that 
could  engage  human  thought,  every  one  of  which 
is  as  a  leaf  in  the  annals  of  her  civilizing  energy. 
Who  can  look  upon  the  white  head  of  Shasta  and 
not  feel  that  peace  descends  upon  him  and  enfolds 
him  with  her  wings  ?     So  no  one  can  suffer  the 


OF  MEDIEVAL  EUROPE.  839 

vision  of  Strasburg  or  Freiburg,  and  not  experi- 
ence a  great  stilling  of  the  heart,  a  sensation  as 
of  a  mother  resting  her  soft  palm  on  one's  fevered 
brow  and  looking  into  the  eyes  unutterable 
thoughts  of  pity  and  consolation  and  relief. 

What  is  the  cause  of  this  sentiment  so  universal 
that  it  cannot  be  gainsaid  ?  It  is  something  sim- 
ilar to  the  power  exercised  over  the  imagination 
by  a  battle-field,  an  Austerlitz  or  Waterloo,  by 
the  ruins  of  some  great  city,  Carthage  or  Antioch 
or  Rome.  There  the  most  awful  experiences  of 
man  with  man  have  gradually  but  inseparably 
blended  with  the  surroundings..  Here  the  dealings 
of  God  with  man  lend  an  unspeakable  dignity  to 
the  scene  of  such  great  mysteries.  For  centuries 
the  Saviour  of  mankind  has  dwelt  beneath  those 
holy  roofs  until  every  detail,  every  ornament, 
every  element,  has  become  in  some  way  familiar 
with  Him.  For  centuries  the  sacraments  of  the 
Catholic  Church  have  been  administered  at  those 
altars,  and  her  solemn  services  have  resounded 
in  every  corner  of  those  vast  edifices.  For  cen- 
turies a  public  worship,  the  offering  of  the  whole 
heart  of  man  ^—  the  act  of  the  society  as  of  the 
family  —  has  developed  and  grown  in  manifold 
novelty  and  charm.  In  all  this  long  time  those 
huge   spaces   have  been   the  meeting-places  of 


340  THE  CATHEDRAL-BUILDERS 

heaven  and  earth,  and  if  some  of  the  dust  and 
stain  of  the  material  garment  of  man  still  cling 
to  them,  they  are  also  full  to  overflowing  of  an- 
gelic presences  and  divine  emanations.  If  the 
muddy  currents  of  life  have  left  their  irregular 
line  along  the  foundations,  there  cling  to  every 
altar  and  shrine  countless  sighs  of  genuine  repent- 
ance, of  ecstatic  fondness  for  Jesus,  of  longing 
to  be  one  with  Him.  There  is  everywhere  the 
aroma  of  human  tears,  and  human  sorrows  that 
are  beyond  the  poor  relief  of  tears.  There  are 
the  cries  of  oppressed  innocence,  of  hunted  virtue, 
of  outraged  justice,  of  equity  foiled  and  scorned. 
If  each  of  these  noble  buildings  is  a  museum,  a 
gallery,  immeasurably  more  instructive  than  the 
big  lumber-rooms  whrch  are  dignified  with  such 
titles,  it  is  also  a  battle-field,  where  the  wrestlings 
of  the  spirit  and  the  conquests  of  grace  fill  out 
the  conflict. 

Of  our  poor  little  lives,  made  up  of  the  smiles 
of  joy  and  the  tears  of  woe,  the  greater  part  is 
generally  concern  and  solicitude.  Still,  there  is 
the  usual  percentage  of  recreation  and  merri- 
ment, without  which  each  heart  would  cease  to 
be  social,  and  life  become  an  utter  burden.  So 
it  came  about  that  the  Gothic  cathedral  was  not 
all  a  creation  of  unrelieved  earnestness.     True 


OF  MEDIEVAL  EUROPE.  341 

religion,  though  grave  and  thoughtful,  is  also 
joyous  and  refined.  It  has  ever  been  a  note  of 
genuine  Catholicism  that  it  is  in  many  things 
the  enemy  of  the  extreme,  the  philosophy  of 
*  moderation.  In  its  palmiest  days  the  Gothic 
architecture  made  a  place  for  the  humorous  and 
grotesque,  unconsciously  perhaps,  but  instinc- 
tively. It  was  truly  the  expression  of  real  life, 
public  and  private.  So,  with  photographic  ac- 
curacy, every  side  of  that  life  must  be  repro- 
duced. By  a  great  and  natural  law  that  ran 
through  the  building  from  corner-stone  to  spire, 
everything  must  be  not  only  useful,  but  beauti- 
ful, must  be  treated  and  finished  artistically. 
For  instance,  the  ugly  water  spouts,  originally 
of  lead  and  marble,  ran  out  eventually  into 
monstrous  heads  known  as  gargoyles.  All  the 
fabled  and  fantastic  beasts  of  the  imagination 
were  made  to  do  similar  service.  The  horror  of 
sin,  the  reign  of  Satan,  were  here  symbolized  in 
a  way  that  was  dear  to  the  mediaeval  mind,  quite 
attached  to  the  external  and  visible,  inexpe- 
rienced in  the  realm  of  pure  reason  and  cold  exact 
logic.  Here  were  sermons  in  stone  for  the 
peasant  as  he  looked  u|)  on  market-day  at  the 
vast  parapet  of  RHeims  or  Strasburg.  Similarly^ 
in  a  thousand  corners  of  the  building,  the  free- 


342  THE  CATHEBBAL-BUILBERS 

working  fancy  of  the  artist  moulded  itself  in  a 
multitude  of  caricatures  either  personal  or  sym- 
bolical. Sometimes  the  carving  monk  cut  out  a 
hideous  head  of  his  abbot,  guilty  of  too  severe 
principles,  too  much  addicted  to  penances  of  bread 
and  water.  Sometunes  the  workmen  made  ridic- 
ulous figures  of  one  another  or  gave  flight  to 
pure  invention  in  the  reign  of  the  grotesque. 
Oftener,  however,  some  general  law  of  sym- 
bolism runs  beneath  all  these  excrescences  of 
humor.  The  mediaeval  man  was  very  much 
addicted  to  satire  of  a  drastic  type.  He  must 
see  his  victim  wince  and  writhe,  must  know  that 
the  stripe  cut  into  the  bone.  Yet  it  was  a  very 
healthy  thing,  and  if  the  clergy,  as  the  ruling 
power,  got  their  share,  perhaps  more  than  their 
just  share,  they  did  not  complain.  The  severest 
caricatures  are  precisely  on  the  carved  seats  of 
the  great  choir  where  the  bishop  and  his  priests 
might  gaze  almost  hourly  on  them  and  remem- 
ber that  the  world  had  eyes  and  ears  and  a  good 
smart  tongue,  even  if  it  did  not  know  Latin  and 
could  only  pray  on  its  beads.  The  cunning  fox 
come  to  grief,  the  gaunt  robber  wolf  laid  low, 
the  vanity  of  gluttony  and  impurity,  the  fate  of 
pride  and  injustice,  the  shame  of  meanness  and 
avarice,  the  comic  effects  of  sloth  and  stupidity. 


OF  MEDIEVAL  EUROPE.  343 

—  all  these  and  many  other  moral  lessonis  were 
thereon  written  so  large  that  he  must  be  deaf 
indeed  for  whom  the  stone  and  wood  of  his  very 
seat  did  not  daily  preach  a  convincing  lesson, 
did  not  daily  rouse  the  voice  of  conscience  and 
the  longing  for  a  better  life. 

Where  did  the  funds  come  from  that  built  these 
mighty  edifices?  Not  a  few  were  put  up  by 
royal  generosity;  others  by  public  taxation. 
But  even  in  such  cases  individual  help  was 
solicited  and  given  very  largely.  We  have  yet 
the  accoutit-books  of  some  of  these  enterprises, 
and  the  entries  are  very  curious.  Much  of  the 
material  —  the  marble,  granite,  brick,  wood — 
was  contributed  gratis.  A  multitude  of  peasants 
offered  their  horses  and  oxen  and  carts  to  trans- 
port the  same,  and  when  they  were  too  poor  to 
own  such  property,  they  gave  their  time  and 
labor.  Women  and  children  even  stood  by  to 
contribute  such  help  as  their  weak  hands  might 
offer.  Every  one  felt  that  here  a  solemn  act  of 
religion  was  going  on,  something  that  tran- 
scended all  ordinary  enterprises.  With  that 
strong  collective  sense  that  the  Church  has  devel- 
oped, they  moved  on,  as  one  man,  to  the  crea- 
tion of  a.  monument  that  should  bear  the  stamp 
of  faith  —  immortality,  eternity.     Hundreds  of 


344  THE  CATHEDRAL-BUILDERS 

noble  churches  were  built  in  this  way,  even  in 
small  villages.  To  build  a  large  and  lovely 
house  of  God,  and  to  dwell  within  the  shadow  of 
its  graceful  spire,  was  the  one  common  purpose 
of  every  community  from  Sicily  to  Norway. 
One  deep  vivifying  current  of  religion  surged 
through  all  Europe,  and  where  it  passed,  edifices 
of  the  highest  beauty  arose,  each  an  incarna- 
tion of  profound  religious  temperament,  each  a 
phase  of  a  social  life  that  recognized  gratefully 
the  existence  of  God  as  the  Father  of  human 
society,  and  the  public  duty  of  the  latter  to 
Him.  The  very  poorest  contributed  —  on  the 
account-books  we  may  yet  read  how  one  gave  a 
bed,  another  a  coat.  The  knight  sacrificed  his 
gilded  helmet  and  his  blade  of  Damascus,  with 
his  coat-of-mail.  The  parish  priest  gave  up  his 
tithes,  the  curate  his  modest  salary.  The  lady 
sent  in  her  laces  and  jewellery,  the  women  of  the 
people  their  little  heirlooms  of  gold  or  silver, 
even  such  neat  and  desirable  articles  of  clothing 
as  they  possessed.  The  farmer  gave  his  best 
cow,  the  pedler  offered  a  choice  trinket,  the 
serf  came  up  with  his  weekly  wages.  And  when 
men  and  women  were  too  poor  to  give  anything 
as  individuals,  they  clubbed  together  in  little 
associations.      Their  pennies    soon    swelled   to 


OF  MEDIEVAL  EUROPE.  345 

silver,  and  the  -silver  was  turned  into  gold,  and 
with  the  gold  they  cast  in  their  hearts,  and  so 
the  stones  of  the  building  got  each  a  tongue  that 
is  yet  eloquent  with  praise  of  the  popular  devo- 
tion. Much  of  the  nion'ey  was  gotten  by  the 
weekly  auction  of  these  articles  that  was  carried 
on  in  the  public  square  by  the  foreman  of  the 
works.  Indeed,  the  whole  enterprise  was  like  a 
majestic  social  song,  a  solemn  hymn,  whose 
notes  rose  slowly  and  sweetly  from  the  earth  to 
heaven,  telling  of  the  transformation  of  avarice 
into  open-handedness,  of  coarseness  into  refine- 
ment, of  selfishness  into  altruism,  of  blank  igno- 
rance and  stupidity  into  a  creative  faith.  Prayer 
and  adoration,  propitiation  and  gratitude,  were 
finely  blended  in  the  great  popular  chorus. 
King  and  serf,  princess  and  milkmaid,  pope  and 
poor  sacristan  —  the  whole  of  Europe  moved  in 
a  vast  procession  before  the  throne  of  Jesus 
Christ,  and  cast  each  a  stone  on  the  memorial 
pile  of  religion.  And,  for  the  first  time,  the 
quasi-divine  hand  of  art,  made  infinitely  cunning, 
transformed  these  crude  offerings  into  ten  thou- 
sand caskets  of  rarest  beauty,  out  of  which  rose 
forever  the  spiritual  incense  of  love,  the  ravish- 
ing aroma  of  adoration,  the  delicate  perfumes  of 
humility  and  human  charity,  the  sweet  odor  of 


346  THE  CATHEDRAL-BUILDERS 

self-sacrifice.  For  a  short  time  in  the  history  of 
mankind  art  was  truly  a  popular  thing,  truly  an 
energizing  softening  influence  on  the  common 
heart.  Insensibly  artistic  skill  became  common 
and  native.  The  hand  of  the  European  man 
was  born  plastic  and  artistic.  His  eye  was 
saturated  with  the  secrets  of  color,  his  imagina- 
tion crowded  with  the  glories  of  form  in  line 
and  curve,  in  mass  and  sweep.  His  own  sur- 
roundings were  insensibly  dominated  by  the 
spirit  of  pure  beauty.  He  was  once""  more  a 
Greek,  only  born  again  in  Jesus,  and  seeing 
now,  with  the  divinely  soft  eyes  of  the  -God-man, 
a  spiritual  world  of  beauty  that  Phidias  and 
Praxiteles  may  have  suspected,  but  only  in  the 
vaguest  manner. 

Who  were  the  actual  loorkmen  on  the  cathedrals  f 
They  were  built  by  corporations  of  workingmen 
known  as  guilds.  In  the  Middle  Ages  all  life 
was  organized,  was  corporative.  As  religion 
was  largely  carried  on  by  the  corporations  of 
monks  and  friars,  so  the  civic  life  and  its  duties 
were  everywhere  in  the  hands  of  corporations. 
It  was  not  exactly  a  government  of  the  multitude 
—  that  was  abhorrent  to  the  men  of  that  time. 
It  was  rather  an  aristocratic  democracy,  a  kind 
of  government  in  which  men  shared  authority 


OF  MEDIEVAL  EUROPE.  347 

and  power,  according  to  the  stake  they  had  in 
the  State,  according  to  their  personal  intelligence 
and  skill,  and  their  personal  utility  or  service- 
ableness  to  the  common  weal. 

These  building  corporations  or  guilds  arose 
out  of  the  very  ancient  unions  of  the  stone- 
masons. Perhaps,  very  probably,  these  unions 
were  never  destroyed  even  by  the  first  shock  of 
barbarian  conquest.  On  its  very  morrow  palaces 
and  churches  and  public  buildings  had  to  go  up 
or  be  restored.  It  is  certain  that  capable  hands 
were  forthcoming.  In  any  case,  the  master- 
masons  were  more  than  mere  stone-cutters. 
They  were  artists  in  the  truest  sense  of  the  word. 
They  must  know  the  capacities  of  their  material, 
its  uses,  its  appliances,  from  the  moment  it  is  hewn 
out  of  the  earth  to  the  moment  it  shines  in  the 
wall,  all  elegance  and  strength.  They  were  at 
once  engineers  and  architects,  designers  and  con- 
tractors. They  are  known  simply  as  "  Master  " 
—  no  more.  Master  Arnulf  builds  the  cathedral 
of  Florence,  Master  Giotto  builds  its  lovely 
tower  or  campanile.  The  masters  are  all  bound 
together  in  a  lifelong  union.  Their  apprentices 
serve  a  long  term  of  years,  but  they  serve  on  all 
parts  of  the  building.  They  can  handle  the 
trowel  and  the  chisel,  the  pencil  and  brush,  as  well 


348  THE  CATHEBBAL-BUILBEBS 

as  tlie  jack-plane  and  the  hammer.  Never  was 
there  so  unique  and  so  uplifting  an  education  of 
the  senses  as  that  of  the  mediaeval  apprentice. 
One  day  he  will  appear  -in  the  weekly  meeting 
of  the  guild,  and  exhibit  some  object  that  he  has 
himself  made.  It  must  be  useful,  and  it  must 
be  beautiful.  It  must  differ  from  all  similar 
work,  must  have  an  air  of  distinction,  be  some- 
thing highly  personal  and  characteristic.  This 
is  the  masterjnece,  the  proof  that  he  is  fit  to 
apply  for  work  in  London  or  Dublin,  Paris  or 
Milan.  It  may  be  a  hinge  or  a  door-knob,  a 
carved  head  or  a  tool,  a  curious  bit  of  framing 
or  a  specimen  of  filigree.  It  is  judged  by  the 
criteria  I  have  mentioned,  judged  by  his  peers  and 
elders.  If  accepted,  he  passes  into  their  society, 
and  is  assured  of  occupation  for  his  lifetime. 

He  will  now  attend  the  meetings,  pay  his 
dues  to  support  the  sick  and  crippled  members, 
assist  with  advice  and  help  at  the  general  con- 
sultations, devote  his  whole  time  and  being  to 
the  progress  of  the  cathedral.  Whether  stone- 
cutter, carver,  joiner,  ironsmith,  goldsmith, 
cabinet-maker,  it  is  all  one.  The  building  arts 
are  equal,  ensouled  by  one  spirit,  and  aiming  at 
one  end.  For  the  present,  there  is  but  one 
corporation  on  the  building.     It  includes  aU  the 


OF  MEDIEVAL  EUROPE.  349 

workers,  and  is  divided  into  masters,  apprentices, 
and  administration.  This  is  the  Lodge,  thd 
Bauhiitte,  the  Laubia  or  covered  cloister  —  like 
the  covered  walk  quite  common  in  North  Italian 
cities  —  where  the  finer  carving  was  done,  the 
plans  kept  and  studied,  and  moneys  taken  in, 
the  wages  paid  out,  and  the  whole  work  or 
"  opera  "  administered.  The  shed  that  yet  pro- 
tects our  stone-masons  when  engaged  at  a  public 
work  is  the  modern  equivalent  of  the  mediaeval 
Lodge. 

On  signing  the  articles  of  the  union  or  guild, 
he  will  learn  that  it  is  intensely  religious,  that 
he  must  attend  Mass  Sundays  and  holydays, 
lead  a  moral  and  Catholic  life,  abstain  from 
swearing,  drunkenness,  and  immorality.  He  will 
learn  that  the  guild  supports  its  own  chapel  and 
priest  to  say  an  early  Mass  daily  for  them.  He 
will  be  told  that  the  Lodge,  or  workshop,  is  like 
a  hall  of  justice,  where  the  rights  of  each  man, 
above  all  his  free  personality,  must  be  respected. 
He  will  learn  that  all  teaching  is  free  to  ap- 
prentices, and  that,  while  there  is  a  preference 
for  the  sons  or  relatives  of  the  masters,  natural 
aptitude  and  vocation  are  especially  sought  for. 
All  this  he  will  learn  at  Ely  or  Peterborough  as 
well  as  at  Toledo  or  Burgos. 


350  THE  CATHEDRAL-BUILDEBS 

Each  guild  was  under  the  protection  of  the 
Blessed  Trinity  and  some  saint.  It  had  solemn 
services  once  a  year  in  honor  of  its  patron.  It 
buried  solemnly  its  members,  and  held  anniver- 
sary services.  Gradually  its  own  chapel  became 
the  centre  of  its  religious  life,  whose  details  were 
carried  on  by  its  own  priests.  Religion  covered 
every  act  of  its  corporate  life  —  and  in  the 
palmy  days  of  the  great  guilds  their  self-con- 
sciousness was  striking.  They  bowed  to  the 
bishop,  indeed,  and  the  pope,  king,  or  emperor, 
who  were  often  included  as  members  of  their 
roll-call  —  but  he  was  truly  a  strong  parish 
priest  or  abbot  whose  authority  they  consented 
to  acknowledge. 

In  the  guild  meetings  a  regular  and  perfect 
administration,  of  great  probity  and  equity,  went 
on,  almost  unremunerated.  The  number  of  ap- 
prentices, the  time  of  their  service  and  the 
degree  of  their  graduation,  the  quality  and 
quantity  of  work  in  each  line,  the  disputes  and 
quarrels  between  all  workmen,  the  wages 
and  the  sick  dues,  the  charity  allowances,  the 
expenses  of  religion,  of  feasts  and  amusements, 
of  public  contributions  —  all  these  came  up  in 
due  order,  and  were  one  open  source  of  popular 
education  for  the  uses  of  real  life. 


OF  MEDIEVAL  EUROPE.  351 

The  guild,  being  a  principal  element  of  the 
civic  life,  soon  had  its  badges  of  office,  its  mace 
and  golden  collar,  its  chains  and  rings,  its  great 
drinking-horns  and  table-plate  of  gold  and 
silver,  its  countless  beautiful  masterpieces.  It 
grew  rich  in  lands  and  revenues,  and  was  a 
factor  to  be  counted  with  in  every  great  struggle 
of  the  municipal  life.  In  Italy  the  guilds  play 
a  principal  role  in  the  fierce  historical  warfare  of 
Guelf  and  Ghibelline,  the  adherents  of  the  pope 
and  the  partisans  of  the  emperor.  They  are 
concerned  in  every  social  and  political  move- 
ment, sometimes  on  the  right  side,  sometimes  on 
the  wrong,  and  it  is  largely  in  their  history  that 
must  be  studied  the  fatal  decay  of  the  democratic 
spirit  of  the  High  Middle  Ages. 

It  is  not  my  purpose  to  treat  of  their  decline, 
and  the  reasons  for  it  —  that  chapter  of  their 
history  is  highly  instructive  even  now.  Suffice 
it  to  know  that  they  were  the  real  builders  of 
the  cathedral;  that  thfe  principles  and  spirit 
of  genuine  Christian  brotherhood  were  long  the 
bond  that  held  them  together ;  that  they  were 
the  creation  of  Catholicism  at  the  height  of  its 
earthly  power;  that  they  looked  on  mutual 
respect  and  helpfulness  as  essential  to  society; 
that  they  held  labor  to  be  the  noblest  of  human 


352  THE  CATHEDRAL-BUILDERS 

things ;  that  they  looked  on  beauty  as  an  essential 
of  true  labor,  its  smile  of  contentment,  its  act  of 
divine  adoration ;  that  they  were  guided  by  a 
sense  of  moderation  and  fairness  in  all  their 
dealings ;  that  waste  of  time  and  dilapidation  of 
material  were  looked  on  as  sinful  and  shameful ; 
that  in  them  each  man  felt  himself  a  living  self- 
determining  element,  a  member  of  the  whole 
work,  and  threw  himself  into  it  with  a  vigor  and 
earnestness  at  once  entire  and  affectionate. 

Thus  the  building  arose  in  an  atmosphere  of 
religion,  all  its  lines  laid  by  men  to  whom  its 
future  uses  were  sacred,  whose  families  threw 
back  into  the  common  treasury  the  surplus  of 
the  master's  earnings.  It  was  a  great  trust  that 
was  laid  on  the  city  —  and  its  execution  brought 
out  in  the  citizens  many  of  the  virtues  that  a 
trust  creates  —  a  sense  of  responsibility,  pruden- 
tial measures,  economic  foresight,  calm  and  large 
and  disinterested  counsel.  In  so  far  as  we 
inherit  many  distinctive  traits  of  this  kind  from 
our  ancestors,  it  is  the  medioBval  church-building 
that  helped  originally  to  create  them. 

In  her  great  cathedrals,  therefore,  the  Catholic 
Church  has  created  durable  edifices  of  popular 
utility  and  perfect  beauty.  The  old  philosophers 
used  to  say  that  the  beautiful  was  the  splendor 


OF  MEDIEVAL  EUROPE.  353 

of  the  true,  in  which  case  the  truth  of  Catholicism 
as  the  genuine  religion  of  the  people  would  be 
amply  vouched  for.  All  the  arts  are  dependent 
on  architecture  and  conditioned  by  it.  Without 
its  great  spaces  there  is  neither  monumental 
painting  nor  sculpture,  neither  music  in  its  high- 
est forms  nor  the  dramatic  movement  of  public 
worship.  In  creating  the  noble  cathedrals  of 
Europe  Catholicism  thus  created  the  fine  arts, 
or  at  least  was  their  nurse  and  protector. 
MusiCj  indeed,  is  absolutely  her  creation,  and 
can  never  utterly  break  away  from  its  original 
home,  however  wild  and  wayward  it  may  seem. 
It  is  not  the  pipes  of  Pan  nor  the  songs  of 
Apollo  that  echo  even  in  our  most  debased 
modern  music.  It  is  the  psalm  of  David,  the 
canticle  of  the  martyr,  the  praiseful  hymn  of  the 
morning  and  the  calm  sad  song  of  evening. 

The  cathedral  was  the  workshop  of  the  Church 
during  the  Middle  Ages.  It  was  vast  because 
she  had  the  whole  city  to  train  up.  It  was 
open  on  all  sides,  because  she  was  the  common 
mother  of  civil  society.  It  was  high  because 
she  aimed  at  uplifting  both  mind  and  heart,  and 
making  for  them  a  level  just  below  the  angelical 
and  celestial.  It  was  manifold  in  its  members 
and  elements,  for  she  permeated  all  society  and 


^        or  THE      '^^X 

^N'VERSITY   i 

.      ^  OF  3 


354  THE  CATHEDRAL-BUILDEBS. 

challenged  every  activity  and  every  interest.  It 
was  all  lightsome  and  soaring,  because  it  was 
the  spiritual  mountain  top  whence  the  soul 
could  take  its  flight  to  the  unseen  world  of  light 
and  joy.  It  was  long  drawn  out  because  the 
long  journey  of  life  ends  happily  only  for  those 
who  rest  in  Jesus.  It  lay  everywhere  cruciform 
on  the  earth,  for  the  shadow  of  the  cross  falls 
henceforth  over  all  humanity,  blessing,  enfold- 
ing, saving.  Never  did  any  institution  create  a 
monument  that  more  thoroughly  expressed  its 
own  scope  and  aims  than  the  Catholic  religion, 
when  it  uplifted  the  great  mediaBval  cathedral. 
It  is  said  that  since  the  unity  of  Christendom 
was  broken  at  the  Reformation  no  more  har- 
monious bells  have  been  cast  like  those  of  the 
Middle  Ages.  So,  too,  no  more  great  cathedrals 
have  arisen  —  in  more  senses  than  one  the  mould 
was  broken  from  whence  they  came,  the  deep, 
universal,  practical,  intensely  spiritual  faith  of 
humanity  that  for  once  transcended  race  and 
nation,  set  aside  the  particular  and  discordant, 
and  created  things  of  absolute  harmony,  and 
therefore  of  beauty  as  absolute  as  man  may 
evoke  from  the  objects  of  sense. 


THE  RESULTS  OF  THE  CRUSADES. 

If  the  venerable  cathedrals  of  Europe  are  the 
highest  expression  of  the  domestic  or  internal 
life  of  mediaeval  Catholicism,  the  Crusades  are 
its  principal  public  and  political  enterprise.  By 
the  Crusades  we  understand  great  armed  expedi- 
tions of  Christian  EurojDC,  undertaken  at  the 
command  or  suggestion  of  the  pope,  with  the 
purpose  of  rescuing  the  Holy  Land  from  the  con- 
trol of  the  Mussulmans.  They  were  originally 
meant  as  pious  and  religious  works.  Whoever 
joined  them  wore  upon  his  breast  a  cross  of  red 
cloth,  and  vowed  to  fight  for  the  sepulchre  of 
Jesus  Christ  and  never  to  return  to  Europe 
before  he  had  prayed  within  its  holy  precincts. 
They  cover  a  period  of  two  hundred  years  —  the 
twelfth  a,nd  the  thirteenth  centuries,  during 
which  time  all  Europe  resounded  to  the  tread  of 
martial  men,  and  the  sublime  cry  of  "  God  wills 
it,  God  wills  it "  was  heard  from  Sicily  to  Nor- 
way. In  this  period  the  whole  cycle  of  human 
passions  was  aroused,  every  human  interest  found 

355 


356  THE  RESULTS   OF  THE  CRUSADES. 

a  voice  and  every  human  activity  a  channel  or 
outlet. 

In  these  two  hundred  years  took  place  the 
transition  of  the  European  man  from  youtk  to 
manhood.  He  enters  upon  the  twelfth  century 
a  creature  of  the  heart,  of  sentiment  and  emo- 
tion, ignorant  of  the  great  world  beyond  his 
little  hamlet  or  castle.  He  emerges  from  the 
thirteenth  century,  both  layman  and  ecclesiastic, 
with  world-wide  experience,  a  clearer  view  of 
the  relations  of  society  to  history  and  geography, 
and  with  new  qualities  of  mind  and  heart.  The 
Crusades  were  often  very  human  enterprises,  and 
more  than  once  degenerated  from  their  sacred 
character,  to  become  instruments  of  injustice  and 
political  folly.  They  have  their  dark  and  re- 
grettable phases,  and  perhaps  their  influence  has 
been,  on  given  occasions  and  in  given  circum- 
stances, detrimental.  This  is  no  more  than  can 
be  said  of  many  great  historical  movements, 
laudable  in  their  spirit  and  original  intention, 
only  to  degenerate  with  time  and  the  irresistible 
force  of  circumstances  or  environment.  Taken 
as  a  whole,  they  are  the  most  important  collec- 
tive enterprise  in  the  history  of  European  man- 
kind. They  were  an  official  work  of  Catholicism, 
as  represented  by  its  Supreme  Head,  the  Bishop 


THE  RESULTS  OF  THE  CRUSADES.  857 

of  Rome.  He  first  instigated  them;  he  roused 
the  timid,  hesitating  kings  and  nobles;  his  letters 
awakened  the  Catholic  multitudes  in  every  land; 
his  spiritual  favors  attracted  them  about  the 
banners  of  their  kings  and  princes;  his  legates 
marched  at  the  head  of  every  expedition.  When 
all  others  grew  weary  and  faint-hearted,  he 
maintained  courage  and  resolution.  When  cu- 
pidity and  self-interest  supplanted  the  original 
motives  of  faith  and  devotion  to  the  Holy  Land, 
he  constantly  recalled  the  true  significance  of 
these  warlike  expeditions.  Whether  the  Cru- 
sades were  the  beginning  of  his  great  power  in 
the  Middle  Ages,  or  the  first  step  to  the  ship- 
wreck of  it,  he  was  always  their  central  figure. 
The  public  life  of  these  two  centuries  really  re- 
volved about  two  poles — Rome  and  Jerusalem. 

The  peoples  of  mediaeval  Europe,  like  all 
simple  peoples  with  their  life-experience  before 
them,  were  genuine  hero-worshippers.  They  were 
feudal  and  military  in  their  organization,  very 
ardent,  sympathetic,  and  mobile.  Rehgion  was 
intelligible,  tangible,  in  their  saints  and  martyrs, 
just  as  the  State  secured  their  loyalty  in  and 
through  the  persons  of  their  leaders,  their  counts, 
dukes,  princes,  and  kings.  Loyalty  was  prima- 
rily to  fixed  persons  in  whom  ideals  and  institu- 


BBS  THE  RESULTS  OF  THE  CRUSADES, 

tions  were  incarnate ;  to  be  a  "  masterless  man  " 
was  equivalent  to  outlawry.  Devotion  and  self- 
sacrifice  were  for  persons  and  places  —  they  had 
not  yet  learned  to  divide  the  abstract  idea  from 
its  concrete  expression. 

From  their  conversion  to  Catholicism  these 
peoples  had  cherished  an  intense  devotion  to  the 
person  of  Jesus  Christ.  He  is  their  King  who 
makes  war  against  Satan,  and  the  apostles 
are  His  thanes.  His  generals,  His  counts  and 
barons.  His  benign  figure  looks  down  from 
every  altar,  is  enthroned  in  every  apse, 
is  sculptured  on  the  Avails  and  uplifted 
over  the  doorway  of  every  church.  The  first 
document  of  romantic  theology  is  the  well-known 
prologue  to  the  law  of  the  Salic  Franks.  Since 
then  all  royal  documents  begin  in  His  name,  all 
wills  and  testaments  confess  Him  in  their  open- 
ing paragraph.  He  is  the  beloved  ideal  of  every 
heart,  the  burden  of  every  discourse,  the  key-note 
of  every  immortal  hymn.  The  first  monument 
of  mediaeval  Teutonic  literature  is  the  noble 
gospel-paraphrase  of  the  ninth  century  known  as 
the  '^  Heliand "  —  in  it  Jesus  Christ  is  the 
heavenly  war-lord,  worthy  of  all  "  Treue,"  sym- 
bol and  fountain  of  all  "  Ehre."  We  shall  never 
understand  the  Crusades  unless  we  grasp  firmly" 


THE  RESULTS  OF  THE  CRUSADES.  359 

the  fact  that  the  Middle  Ages  were  a  period 
of  most  universal  and  sincere  devotion  to  the 
person  of  Jesus  Christ. 

In  such  a  world  it  was  only  natural  that  the 
severe  penances  needed  to  rouse  a  sense  of  sm  in 
those  rude  and  coarse  natures  should  often  take 
the  form  of  a  pilgrimage  to  the  Holy  Land  where 
Jesus  was  born,  lived,  and  died.  As  the  Middle 
Ages  wore  away,  these  pilgrimages  grew  in  size 
and  frequency.  With  the  new  religious  spirit 
that  created  so  many  splendid  churches  in  the 
twelfth  and  thirteenth  centuries  coincided  some 
other  things.  The  popes  had  tak»fen  the  popular 
side  m  their  lono;  strucrg-le  with  the  German 
emperors,  and  had  won  the  immediate  victory. 
The  great  abbots  of  Cluny  had  aroused  a  new 
life  all  over  Europe  by  their  piety  and  that  of 
the  hundreds  of  monasteries  which  acknowl- 
edged their  rule  of  life.  After  a  long  period  of 
political  inferiority  and  internal  anarchy,  the 
States  of  the  ^Yest,  disorganized  since  the  death 
of  Charlemao-ne,  bec^an  to  realize  their  streno-th. 
Vaguely  it  was  felt  that  some  common  enter- 
prise was  needed  to  gather  up  all  these  new 
forces  and  currents. 

In  the  great  soul  of  Gregory  VII.,  the  man 
who  more  thoroughly  than  any  other  resumed 


360  THE  RESULTS  OF  THE  CRUSADES. 

the  traditions  and  temper  of  the  best  Catholi- 
cism that  preceded  him,  while  he  gave  the 
watchwords  for  the  centm*ies  to  come,  this 
common  enterprise  was  already  clearly  outlined, 
as  early  as  the  last  quarter  of  the  eleventh  cen- 
tury. He  saw  that  it  would  be  better  to  con- 
sume the  ardor  and  energy  of  men  like  the 
young  and  violent  Henry  IV.  of  Germany  in 
efforts  against  a  public,  common,  and  threaten- 
ing enemy,  than  to  go  on  indefinitely  in  domes- 
tic broils  and  dissensions.  Christian  fighting 
against  Christian,  while  all  around  the  Medi- 
terranean the  Moslem  was  gradually  spreading 
his  power,  and  already  threatened  from  very 
near  that  city  of  Constantinople  which  had  so 
long  been  the  bulwark  of  all  the  Christian  popu- 
lation of  the  West.  Indeed,  the  action  of 
Sylvester  II.,  the  famous  Gerbert  (999-1003), 
would  lead  us  to  suspect  that  since  the  days  of 
Gregory  II.,  the  "  nee  dicendi  Hagareni "  of  the 
Liber  Pontificalis  had  found  in  the  papacy  their 
native  enemy.  Islam  was  above  all  a  religion, 
a  warlike  one  in  its  essence  and  all  its  history, 
whose  prosperity  could  only  be  gained  at  the 
expense  of  Christendom. 

The  time  of  Gregory  YII.  seemed  also  a  favor- 
able moment  for  the  reunion  of  the  Western  and 


THE  RESULTS  OF  THE  CRUSADES.  361 

Eastern  Churches.  Scarce  two  hundred  years  had 
passed  since  the  death  of  Photius,  the  scholarly 
but  infamous  man  who  had  caused  the  breach 
that  still  lies  open,  and  withdrawn  the  Christian 
peoples  of  the  East  from  their  union  with  the 
head  of  the  Christian  religion,  the  successor  of 
St.  Peter.  Constantinople  was  now  in  sore  need 
of  help  against  the  warlike  Seljuk  Turks,  who 
had  been  encroaching  very  deeply  on  Asia  Minor, 
and  also  held  all  the  overland  roads  to  Syria  and 
Palestine.  This  great  city,  the  London  of  the 
Middle  Ages,  had  exhausted  its  means  and  its 
armies.  On  nearly  every  side  the  world  of 
Islam  was  surrounding  it  like  a  moving  bog, 
slowly  but  surely.  Four  centuries  of  super- 
human efforts,  of  wonderful  ingenuity,  of  diplo- 
macy, had  not  availed  to  stave  off  the  day  of 
reckoning  that  began  when  Mohammed  haugh- 
tily ordered  the  Roman  emperor  of  his  own  day 
to  do  him  homage.  As  a  matter  of  fact  it  took 
four  more  centuries  to  reduce  the  Royal  City 
beneath  the  Crescent  —  but  the  tide  was  already 
turning  that  way,  and  at  Constantinople  people, 
patriarchs,  and  emperors  recognized  too  well  the 
painful  fact,  though  they  could  never  fully  recon- 
cile themselves  to  it,  nor  adopt  the  proper  meas- 
ures of  reconciliation  with  the  West.     Is  not  the 


362  THE  RESULTS  OF  THE  CRUSADES. 

secret  of  it  all  in  those  terrible  pages  of  Liud- 
prand  of  Cremona  ?  In  them  there  breathe  yet 
the  racial  contempt  of  the  Greek  for  the  Frank, 
the  hoarded  hope  of  vengeance,  the  senseless 
pride  of  origin^  the  bitter  resentment  of  the 
transfer  of  loyalty  by  the  Roman  See,  the  angry 
despair  at  the  sight  of  a  free  and  vigorous  West. 
If  Rome  and  Jerusalem  were  the  poles  around 
which  revolves  the  history  of  the  Crusades,  the 
city  of  Constantinople  is  the  key  to  their  failure. 
In  these  two  centuries  many  thousands  of  armed 
knights  on  horseback  gave  up  their  lives  to  the 
Crusades.  Countless  thousands  of  foot-soldiers 
and  camp-followers,  pilgrims  and  the  like,  per- 
ished in  the  attempt  to  free  the  holy  places. 
There  were  two  ways  to  reach  Jerusalem,  one 
by  land  down  the  Danube  and  through  Thrace 
to  Constantinople,  thence  over  Asia  Minor  into 
Syria ;  the  other  by  sea  from  Venice  or  Genoa, 
which  cities  alone  had  fleets  of  transport  galleys 
in  those  days.  For  the  first  century  the  Cru- 
saders went  by  land.  Arrived  at  Constanti- 
nople, they  abandoned  themselves,  too  often,  to 
excess,  after  the  fatigues  and  privations  of  the 
long  journey.  The  roads  were  poor  and  they 
^  were  ignorant  of  the  local  topography.  The 
populations  they  passed  through  were  also  igno- 


THE  RESULTS  OF  THE  CBUSADES,  363 

rant,  and  often  hostile.  This  was  especially  the 
case  as  they  left  behind  them  the  uncertain 
boundaries  of  the  West  and  approached  the 
territory  of  Constantinople  and  the  sphere  of 
its  influence.  The  semi-barbarian  world  of 
Hungary,  Bulgaria,  and  the  Balkans  was  deeply 
troubled  at  their  coming.  Indeed,  they  were 
rightly  troubled,  for  the  military  chiefs  of  the 
Crusaders  too  often  had  views  differing  from 
those  of  the  pious  clergy  and  people.  Not 
always  were  their   ambitions  bounded   by  that 

"  Sepulchre  in  stubborn  Jewry 
Of  the  world's  ransom,  blessed  Mary's  Son." 

They  were  mostly  men  of  Norman  blood  or 
descent,  State-destroyers  and  State-makers  by 
profession.  Many  dreamed  of  new  and  rich 
feudal  principalities,  of  independent  sovereign- 
ties, of  a  golden  life  in  the  dreamy  Orient. 
The  law  or  custom  of  primogeniture,  the  feudal 
customs  in  favor  of  the  eldest  son,  threw  regu- 
larly a  multitude  of  young  ambitious  men  upon 
the  theatre  of  European  affairs,  brothers  of 
kings,  nephews  of  queens,  a  mob  of  landless, 
disinherited  men,  and  women  too,  for  whom  for- 
tune lay  in  the  future  and  far  away.  They  were 
the  Conquistadori  of  the  Middle  Ag^s ;  to  their 
ambitious,  unholy,  and  evil  counsels  and  pur- 


364  THE  RESULTS  OF  THE  CRUSADES. 

poses  is  owing  largely  the  failure  of  the  religious 
scope  of  the  Crusades.  Between  them  on  the 
one  side  and  the  churchmen  on  the  other  there 
was  friction  that  often  led  to  the  gravest  disasters. 

It  was  in  the  time  of  the  Crusades  as  in  all 
other  periods  of  human  history  —  the  genuine 
praiseworthy  aims  of  religion  were  often  per- 
verted by  the  human  instruments  which  acted 
in  her  name.  The  noble  and  useful  ideals  set 
forth  at  Rome  and  preached  by  a  St.  Bernard, 
the  high  political  advantages  of  the  same,  were 
perverted  in  the  execution.  Jerusalem  was  lost 
because  a  Bohemond  or  a  Tancred  set  more  store 
by  a  little  feudal  estate  on  the  coast  of  Syria 
than  by  the  real  object  of  his  vow.  The  Mos- 
lem's hour  of  division  and  weakness  was  allowed 
to  go  by  because  Venice  was  jealous  of  the  com- 
mercial superiority  of  Constantinople,  and  plun- 
dered pitilessly,  first  the  Crusaders  themselves, 
and  then  her  ancient  suzerain,  the  great  Royal 
City  that,  after  all,  had  enabled  Venice  to  rise 
by  restraining  the  naval  ambition  of  the  Mos- 
lems, and  preventing  the  Mediterranean  from 
becoming  the  great  lake  of  Islam,  its  easy  high- 
way into  all  Europe. 

The  Crusaders  themselves,  too  often,  listened 
to  very  earthly  and  low  passions,  and  dissipated 


THE  RESULTS   OF  THE  CRUSADES,  365 

their  numbers  and  strength  before  they  came 
within  sight  of  the  Holy  City.  They  carried 
along  with  them  old  burdens  of  jealousy,  hatred, 
revenge,  from  their  French  or  German  homes. 
Upon  the  soil  of  Syria  they  cherished  their 
traditional  European  policies  and  combinations. 
Their  councils  were  usually  divided  —  those 
highly  personal  men  who  never  recognized  any 
superior  law  at  home,  except  through  fear,  were 
unlikely  to  bear  the  yoke  of  subordination 
abroad.  Could  Homer  have  arisen  he  would 
have  seen  before  Jerusalem  or  St.  Jean  d'Acre 
as  before  Dion,  no  fev/er  armies  than  there  were 
kings  and  princes,  as  many  independent  divisions 
as  there  were  banners  of  great  knights,  as  many 
sulking  chiefs  as  there  were  disappointed  ambi- 
tions. Many  of  them  had  never  seen  a  great 
city.  At  that  time  all  the  cities  of  Europe  were 
not  worth,  in  wealth  or  luxury,  the  single  city 
of  Constantinople.  Its  brilliant  civilization  had 
never  known  interruption  from  the  day  of  its 
foundation.  As  in  modern  London,  the  fatten- 
ing currents  of  commerce  had  been  flowing  into 
it  from  the  East  and  the  West  for  seven  hundred 
years  and  more.  Its  hundreds  of  splendid 
churches  were  almost  equalled  by  the  splendid 
civic  buildings.     The  masterpieces  of  antiquity, 


366  THE  BESULTS   OF  THE  CBUSADES. 

the  rich  literature  of  ancient  Greece,  the  tradi- 
tions of  all  the  arts,  the  high  aristocratic  sense 
of  superiority,  seemed  to  justify  the  proud  atti- 
tude of  the  citizens  toward  these  uneducated 
and  coarse  multitudes  from  the  West. 

A  profound  dislike,  an  almost  inexplicable 
hatred  of  the  Bishop  of  Rome,  has  always  char- 
acterized the  Greek  clergy  of  Constantinople. 
Their  claim  was  always  that  the  clergy  of  the 
New  Rome  was  the  equal  in  authority  and  the 
superior  in  learning  and  refinement  of  the  clergy 
of  Old  Rome.  Here,  by  the  Golden  Horn,  the 
traditions  of  the  ancient  imperial  government 
were  never  broken,  never  forgotten.  Each 
Christian  emperor  felt  that  he  was  the  genuine 
successor  of  Julius  Caesar  and  Augustus.  The 
Western  nations  —  England,  France,  Germany, 
Italy  —  were  to  him  revolted  provinces,  that 
some  mysterious  design  of  God  tolerated.  No 
emperor  of  Constantinople  ever  willingly  ad- 
dressed the  German  successors  of  Charlemagne 
as  emperor,  only  as  king.  In  theory,  the  Greek 
emperor  was  himself  the  master  of  the  civilized 
universe.  This,  too,  although  century  by  century 
his  civil  power  waned.  North,  South,  East,  and 
West,  the  limits  of  empire  were  pared  away. 
But   the  Romaic  Caesar  at  Constantinople  only 


THE  RESULTS   OF  THE  CRUSADES.  367 

gathered  with  more  dignity  the  folds  of  his 
purple  robes,  and  prepared  to  perish  with  more 
fortitude  amid  the  rising  tides  of  modern  bar- 
barism. There  is  nothing  more  pathetic  in 
history  than  this  survival  of  ancient  ideals  and 
habits  of  political  life.  The  aristocracy  of  Con- 
stantinople was  politically  rotten  to  the  core, 
yet  it  remained  stoically  contemptuous  of  its 
Latin  conquerors,  from  the  impregnable  strong- 
holds of  its  own  mind  and  heart.  The  mediaeval 
knight  might  have  saved  Constantinople,  if  the 
classic  soul  of  Old  Rome,  proud  and  exclusive, 
had  not  been  so  deeply  infused  into  the  organism 
of  her  prouder  daughter,  the  New  Rome.  It 
was  in  the  time  of  the  Crusades,  as  it  is  to-day 
with  the  Greek  clergy  of  that  city  —  better  a 
hundred  times  the  rule  of  the  Crescent  than  any 
subjection  to  the  pope,  better  the  sour  bread  of 
slavery  and  oppression  than  any  recognition  of 
the  descendants  of  the  Goths  and  Vandals. 

In  the  beginning  there  was  almost  no  order  or 
harmony  among  the  chiefs  of  the  Crusades,  and 
when  they  reached  the  Royal  City,  their  own 
greedy  passions  and  its  great  weakness  conspired 
to  make  them  common  pillagers,  thieves,  and 
oppressors.  To  get  rid  of  them  the  wily  Greeks 
induced  them  to  cross  the  Bosphorus,  led  them 


868  THE  BESULTS  OF  THE  CRUSADES, 

against  the  hordes  of  Turks,  then  betrayed  and 
abandoned  them.  These  new  protectors  of  the 
Greeks  were  worse  than  theu^  old  enemies.  So 
the  bones  of  entire  armies  soon  whitened  the 
plains  of  Asia  Minor.  By  thousands  the  simple- 
hearted  but  ignorant  knights  of  France,  England, 
and  Germany  paid  with  their  lives  for  their  tur- 
bulent career  in  Constantinople,  for  their  impoli- 
tic insults  to  the  Greek  who  did  not  acknowledge 
the  Bishop  of  Rome  as  head  of  the  Christian 
religion,  for  their  innocent  trust  in  the  leadership 
of  some  Byzantine  general. 

In  the  next  century  the  Crusaders  usually 
take  the  fleets  of  Venice  or  Genoa  to  cross 
the  Mediterranean  —  but  at  an  enormous  ex- 
pense. Once,  indeed,  Venice  tempted  them  to 
overthrow  the  Christian  Empire  at  Constanti- 
nople, which  was  now  her  commercial  rival.  In 
spite  of  the  pope  this  act  of  folly  and  injustice 
was  accomplished,  and  the  city  of  Constantinople 
saw  its  remaining  provinces  divided  between 
Frenchmen  and  Venetians.  This  was  in  1204, 
and  was  only  the  prelude  to  a  series  of  disastrous 
expeditions,  each  one  more  fatal  than  the  other, 
until  at  last  in  1270,  St.  Louis,  King  of  France, 
the  leader  of  the  eighth  great  Crusade,  died  of 
the  plague  at  Tunis,  whither  Charles  of  Anjou 


THE  RESULTS  OF  THE  CRUSADES.  369 

had  drawn  him,  against  the  king's  own  judg- 
ment, in  order  to  collect  some  bad  debts  that 
were  owing  to  French  and  Italian  traders. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  First  Crusade,  under 
the  brave  knight,  Godfrey  of  Bouillon,  did  cap- 
ture Jerusalem  in  1098.  For  a  century  the 
Holy  City  was  Christian.  It  was  lost  at  the 
end  of  the  twelfth  century,  and  though  for  a 
short  while  again  in  Christian  hands,  from  1229 
to  1245,  it  then  definitely  passed  away  from  the 
control  of  Christian  Europe  into  the  hands  of 
the  oppressive  and  cruel  Turk.  Its  possession 
had  fired  the  heart  of  Christian  Europe  for  three 
generations.  But  this  fated  city  was  too  great 
a  political  prize  for  Islam  to  lose.  Gradually 
the  Moslems  healed  their  divisions.  The  Turk- 
ish sultans,  men  of  great  military  genius,  broke 
down  the  hundred  little  emirs,  and  lifted  the 
Leather  Apron  of  their  mining  Turanian  ances- 
tors over  one  fortress  after  another  from  the 
confines  of  Persia  to  the  waters  of  the  Mediter- 
ranean. Here,  along  the  coast  of  Syria,  the 
Crusaders  had  built  up  several  little  States,  organ- 
ized with  all  the  ingenuity  of  feudal  lawj^ers,  in 
such  a  way  that  the  superior  lord  should  have 
all  the  pomp  and  titles  of  authority  and  the  most 
inferior  vassal  be  left  to  his  own  sweet  will  and 


370  THE  BE  SUITS  OF  THE  CBUSADES, 

temper.  The  innermost  of  these  States,  Edessa, 
faced  the  Euphrates,  and  long  bore  the  brunt  of 
the  Moslem  Orient.  It  was  the  first  to  fall. 
Before  the  end  of  the  thirteenth  century  they 
had  all  disappeared,  and  only  the  picturesque 
ruins  of  their  fortified  hilltops  remain  to  show 
what  were  once  the  hopes  of  a  great  Christian 
State  in  the  Orient. 

The  popular  enthusiasm  for  the  Crusades  was 
originally  universal.  Kings,  even  emperors  of 
the  West,  led  their  armies  in  person  and  under- 
went great  hardships.  A  German  emperor, 
Frederick  Barbarossa,  was  drowned  on  the  way 
across  Asia  Minor.  St.  Louis  of  France,  as  we 
have  seen,  died  of  the  plague  at  Tunis.  Noble 
princesses  and  high-born  ladies,  too,  accompanied 
these  expeditions.  But  few  of  the  great  military 
chiefs  stayed  in  the  East.  Most  of  the  knights 
who  remained  were  French,  and  it  is  to  that 
period  that  goes  back  the  use  of  the  French  lan- 
guage in  the  East,  as  well  as  the  political  prestige 
that  France  long  enjoyed  throughout  the  Med- 
iterranean world. 

In  time  experience  taught  those  Crusaders  who 
stayed  in  the  Orient  that  the  heavily  armed 
knight  of  Europe,  with  his  great  battle-horse,  his 
huge  lance    and   heavy  sword,  was  ill-fitted  to 


THE  RESULTS  OF  THE  CRUSADES,  371 

carry  on  a  guerrilla  warfare  for  the  Holy  Land. 
Three  military  orders  arose,  with  improved 
methods  of  warfare,  that  contributed  much  to 
the  safety  of  pilgrims,  the  protection  of  Jerusa- 
lem, and  of  the  fortified  castles  of  Syria  and 
Palestine.  They  were  the  Knights  Hospitaller 
of  St.  John,  the  Knights  of  the  Temple,  and  the 
Teutonic  Knights.  Originally  established  for 
the  service  of  the  sick,  they  became  an  organized 
feudal  army  of  volunteers.  Their  castles  arose 
all  over  the  Holy  Land,  their  bravery  and  adven- 
tures were  in  the  mouth  of  every  pilgrim.  In 
them  the  romance  and  the  poetry  of  the  Crusades 
reached  its  height.  All  Europe  looked  on  them 
as  the  true,  the  permanent  Crusaders,  and  staked 
its  hopes  of  recovery  of  the  Holy  Land  on  their 
skill  and  endurance.  Thousands  of  estates  were 
bestowed  on  them  in  the  thirteenth  century  — 
their  farms  and  castles  stretched  continuously 
from  the  Mediterranean  to  the  Baltic  and  from 
the  Atlantic  to  the  Black  Sea.  It  is  in  the  vicis- 
situdes of  their  history  that  we  ought  to  look  for 
the  true  ideal  of  the  Crusades,  and  the  measure 
of  its  realization. 

The  richest  of  them,  the  Templars,  became 
the  chief  banking  house  of  Europe.  In  the 
fierce  struggle  between  the  kings  of  France  and 


372  THE  RESULTS  OF  THE  CRUSADES. 

the  Pope  of  Kome,  the  Knights  of  the  Temple 
went  down  most  tragically  —  the  justice  of  their 
condemnation  is  yet,  and  perhaps  always  will 
be,  an  open  question.  The  Teutonic  Knights, 
after  the  'loss  of  the  Holy  Land,  turned  their 
faces  homeward  to  Germany.  The  soil  of 
Prussia,  then  the  home  of  barbarian  pagan  peo- 
ples, and  of  Northeastern  Germany,  was  turned 
over  to  them,  as  a  missionary  brotherhood  of 
laymen,  with  the  purpose  of  overthrowing 
paganism  and  of  establishing  Christianity,  in- 
cidentally of  creating  new  marches  for  the 
empire.  Soon  they  were  known  as  the  Schwert- 
brueder,  the  Brothers  of  the  Sword  —  a  term 
that  sufficiently  well  indicates  the  manner,  if  not 
the  spirit,  in  which  they  propagated  the  gospel. 
Their  splendid  mediaeval  fortress  still  stands 
along  the  Baltic,  the  great  pile  of  Marienburg, 
whence  Pomerania,  Lithuania,  Esthonia,  and  all 
the  border-lands  of  Prussia  and  Russia  received 
the  Christian  faith. 

The  Hospitallers,  or  Knights  of  St.  John,  after 
their  expulsion  from  the  Holy  Land,  clung  still 
to  the  control  of  the  port  of  Smyrna,  and  their 
fidelity  has  even  yet  its  reward,  for  Smyrna  is 
now  to  France  what  Shanghai  is  to  England. 
Eventually  they  were  established  on  the  island 


THE  BESULTS  OF  THE  CMUSADES.  3TS 

of  Rhodes,  where  they  remained  "imtil  nearly 
four  centuries  ago  (1520),  when  they  were  driven 
out  by  the  Turk  after  one  of  the  most  desperate 
sieges  of  history.  Their  last  foothold  in  the 
Mediterranean  was  on  the  island  of  Malta.  In 
the  latter  half  of  the  eighteenth  century,  they 
lost  even  this  remnant  of  their  old  power,  and 
with  them  the  last  glamour  of  the  Crusades  dis- 
appeared. There  is  yet  an  Order  of  the  Knights 
of  Malta,  and  the  pope  still  appoints  a  Grand 
Commander  —  but  it  is  a  mere  ceremony.  The 
old  religious  military  orders,  with  their  three 
vows  of  celibacy,  poverty,  and  obedience,  have 
disappeared.  Cardinal  Lavigerie  tried  to  estab- 
lish one  for  the  suppression  of  the  slav^-trade  in 
the  heart  of  Africa,  but  with  indifferent  success. 
Such  institutions  only  flourish  on  the  soil  of 
simple  and  childlike  faith ;  agnosticism  and 
commercialism  are  too  cold  an  atmosphere  for 
them. 

In  the  Crusades  took  place  the  first  great 
expansion  of  Europe.  From  the  year  500  to  the 
year  1100  —  for  six  hundred  years  —  the  peoples 
who  now  make  up  the  great  States  of  France, 
Germany,  England,  and*  Spain,  were  growing 
from  infancy  to  mature  youth,  in  a  civic  sense. 
All  the  rawness,  weakness,  waywardness,  all  the 


374  THE  BESULTS   OF  THE  CRUSADES. 

folly  and  strong  violent  passion  of  youth,  are 
upon  them.  They  are  in  the  hands  of  a  gentle 
but  firm  nurse,  the  Catholic  Church ;  but  every 
now  and  then  they  break  away  from  school,  and 
there  is  pandemonium.  The  sea  breaks  out  in  the 
heart  of  the  Anglo-Saxon,  and  the  marsh  in  the 
heart  of  the  Frank,  the  dark  deep  forest  calls 
out  in  the  soul  of  the  German,  and  the  North- 
man is  again  upon  his  piratical  galley.  The 
early  Middle  Ages  are  apparently  a  perfect 
welter  of  disorder  and  anarchy.  But  somehow 
in  the  eleventh  century  there  is  a  beginning  of 
better  things.  A  king  of  France  arises  out  of 
the  wreckage  of  the  French  successors  of  Charle- 
magne's children.  An  emperor  grows  strong, 
not  only  in  name,  but  in  fact,  among  the  Ger- 
mans. He  is  in  theory  the  Koman  emperor  in 
the  West,  and  though  outside  of  Germany  his 
real  power  is  small,  this  very  theory  of  a  one 
individual  empire  of  Rome  that  had  never  been 
destroyed,  but  only  held  in  abeyance  as  a  trust 
by  the  Bishop  of  Rome,  gave  once  more  a  sacred, 
venerable  character  to  the  supreme  civil  author- 
ity. Then,  too,  the  Roman  law  was  there  as 
a  significant  commentary  on  what  might  be 
made  out  of  the  imperial  name.  The  Church 
had  saved  it,  assimilated  it,  christianized  it,  and 


THE  RESULTS  OF  THE  CRUSADES.  375 

in  time  the  emperors  would  use  it  as  a  leverage 
for  far-reaching  ambitions. 

The  old  Gallo-Roman  civilization  had  never  ut- 
terly died  out  in  France  —  the  ancient  Gaul ;  and 
now  the  traditions*of  Old  Rome  in  government  and 
administration  were  handed  down  to  the  Western 
emperor  by  the  clergy  of  Old  Rome  herself.  In 
classics,  in  legal  procedure,  in  the  continuous  use 
of  Latin  as  the  tongue  of  religion,  diplomacy,  in 
the  traditions  of  architecture,  in  the  use  of  the 
Latin  scholarship,  the  Roman  Clmrch  had  kept 
alive  no  little  of  the  sober  and  practical  Latin 
spirit — enough  at  least  to  act  as  a  leaven  for  the 
new  society  that  was  to  issue  from  the  laboring 
womb  of  Europe.  Thus,  the  modern  world  of 
Europe  and  America  has  become  the  daughter  of 
the  civilization  of  Rome  and  Greece,  and  not  the 
theatre  of  Moslem  propaganda. 

It  is  true  that  the  actual  territory  conquered 
from  the  Turks  and  held  by  the  Christians  of 
Europe  was  never  very  great  —  the  city  of  Jeru- 
salem, some  strongholds  in  Palestine,  some  ports 
in  Syria.  On  the  compact  masses  of  Islam  in 
Persia,  Egypt,  and  Northern  Africa  they  made 
little  or  no  impression.  In  the  Mediterranean 
the  islands  of  Cyprus  and  Crete  passed  gradu- 
ally into  the  possession  of  Venice.     A  corner  of 


376  THE  RESULTS  OF  THE  CBUSADES. 

ancient  Armenia  remained  some  centuries  semi- 
independent  of  Greek  and  .  Turk,  under  feudal 
influences  of  France.  French  families  held  on  to 
feudal  office  and  rights  in  Greece  and  the  Archi- 
pelago. These  were  about  all  the  positive  gains, 
and  they  have  long  since  melted  away.  "  But  the 
political  results  of  the  Crusades  were  very  im- 
portant in  a  negative  and  prohibitive  way.  Inter- 
nally, the  European  States  of  Germany,  France, 
England,  and  Spain  were  very  weak  at  the  begin- 
ning of  the  Crusades.  Feudalism  had  reached 
the  point  of  utter  disintegration.  The  royal 
authority,  the  concept  of  the  State,  all  centraliz- 
ing influences,  were  everywhere  at  their  lowest 
ebb.  Social  anarchy  was  lifting  threateningly  its 
spectre-like  head.  Shattering  conflicts  between 
the  Church  and  immoral  arbitrary  rulers  were 
multiplying.  Schisms  in  the  Church,  revolts  and 
rebellions  in  the  civil  order,  were  growing.  The 
warlike  Turks,  to  whom  had  fallen  the  real  power 
and  wealth  of  the  Caliphs  at  Bagdad  and  Cairo, 
were  on  the  eve  of  capturing  Constantinople. 
In  great  flotillas  the  equally  warlike  barbarians 
of  the  new  States  in  Eussia  were  coming  down 
yearly  by  the  Don  and  the  Dnieper,  and  crossing 
the  Black  Sea  with  the  same  intention.  The 
Arab   kingdoms    in    Spain   were  at  the  height 


THE  RESULTS  OF  THE  CRUSADES.  377 

of  their  development.  Had  the  Moslem  Orient 
been  left  unmolested,  free  to  carry  on  the  Holy 
War  according  to  the  law  of  Mohammed,  it  would 
have  found  everywhere  in  Europe  the  Christians 
divided,  ignorant  of  the  great  principles  of  the 
art  of  war,  children  in  navigation,  unable  to  carry 
on  or  resist  .sieges,  half-barbarian  and  helpless  in 
their  diplomacy,  the  veriest  lot  of  political  infants 
one  could  imagine.  From  the  summits  of  the  Pyre- 
nees, from  the  coasts  of  Sicily  and  S}' ria  and  Asia 
Minor,  from  the  endless  steppes  of  Russia,  from  the 
deepest  Orient,  would  have  come  down  again  on 
the  rich  and  tempting  lands  of  Southern  Europe 
hordes  far  w^orse  than  five  or  six  centuries  before 
had  destroyed  the  Roman  State.  There  is  an 
organic  law  of  preservation  for  States  and  civili- 
zations that  works  ftke  an  instinct,  and  for  Europe, 
since  the  days  of  Alaric  and  Attila,  that  instinct 
was  incarnate  in  the  bishops  of  Rome.  In  spite 
of  its  unspeakable  misfortunes,  the  Eternal  City 
stni  held  on  to  some  of  the  large  political  tradi- 
tions of  antiquity.  The  very  soil  and  the  monu- 
ments kept  them  alive,  as  did  the  old  laws  of 
Rome  and  her  spiritual  authority  that  was  recog- 
nized from  the  Mediterranean  to  the  Baltic. 

In  was  well  for  the  world  that  at  this  time 
the    "West    hurled    itself    upon    the    East    and 


378  THE  RESULTS  OF  THE  CRUSADES. 

thereby  arrested  the  political  consolidation  and 
growth  of  the  latter.  It  did  so  at  a  propitious 
moment,  when  Islam  was  passing  from  the  con- 
trol of  Arabs  to  that  of  Turks,  and  everywhere 
existed  a  feudal  disorder  not  unlike  that  of  the 
West.  It  accomplished  the  impossible  in  find- 
ing a  splendid  and  inspiring  symbol,  the  cross  of 
Christ,  for  a  dozen  discordant  nationalities.  It 
seized  on  a  psychological  moment  to  weld  into  a 
common,  conscious  organic  unity  of  Catholicism, 
all  the  nations  of  Europe  that  had  hitherto  been 
in  communion,  indeed,  with  Rome,  but  had  not 
yet  come  into  daily  and  vivifying  contact  with 
one  another.  In  these  long  wars  the  Moslem 
was  made  to  fight  for  his  existence ;  he  was 
pushed  finally  out  of  the  magnificent  island  of 
Sicily ;  he  was  driven  from  his  perches  in  the 
Maritime  Alps ;  he  was  hunted  from  his  scat- 
tered, but  ancient,  strongholds  in  Southern  Italy 
and  Southern  France,  whence  he  had  for  cen- 
turies been  contemplating  their  conquest.  A 
thousand  Christian  galleys  on  the  Mediterranean 
and  the  Adriatic  drove  the  corsairs  of  Africa  to 
their  distant  lairs,  and  relieved  the  Christian 
people  of  the  seaboard  from  the  daily  fear  of 
slavery,  their  women  from  outrage,  their  chil- 
dren   from   ransom.     This   nameless   horror,  of 


UNIVERSITY 
or 

TEE  RESULTS  OF  THE  CRUSADES.  379 

Moslem  piracy,  that  has  not  yet  finally  disap- 
peared, had  paralyzed  the  Italian  and  French 
merchant,  had  suspended  the  natural  free  move- 
ment of  peoples  across  the  Mediterranean,  was 
debasing  the  political  sense  of  all  the  Christians 
of  Southern  Europe.  In  Visigothic  Spain,  the 
descendants  of  the  Cid  Campeador  took  heart 
once  more.  The  good  knight  Roland  had  again 
arisen,  and  from  his  last  rock  of  defence  had 
blown  a  strong  blast  that  reechoed  over  Europe. 
The  Christian  States  of  the  Balkans  (for  if  there 
is  a  Balkan  question,  it  is  owing  to  the  failure 
of  the  Crusades),  though  ignorant  and  blind  as 
to  their  welfare,  got  a  long  respite  through  the 
Crusades.  Indeed,  they  put  off  entirely,  if  not 
political  humiliation,  at  least  any  such  complete 
assimilation  into  Islam  as  has  fallen  upon  the 
Coptic  race  in  Egypt.  It  is  owing  to  the  Cru- 
sades that  the  profound  eternal  antithesis  and 
antipathy  of  the  political,  ideals  of  East  and 
West  were  brought  out,  precisely  when  the  final 
adjustment  of  territorial  limits  was  taking  place. 
The  great  wars  of  Spain  in  the  fifteenth  century,, 
that  ended  in  the  fall  of  Grenada,  the  great  wars 
of  the  sixteenth  and  seventeenth  centuries  be- 
tween Hungary  and  Austria  on  the  one  side  and 
the  sultans  of  Constantinople  on  the  other,  are 


380  THJE  RESULTS  OF  THE  CRUSADES. 

really  Crusades.  Thus,  at  the  very  threshold  of 
modern  times  these  wars  were  the  last  death- 
struggle  between  Islam  and  Christianity  over 
two  great  natural  bulwarks  of  Europe,  the 
Pyrenees  and  the  Danube.  There  is  the  most 
intimate  relationship  of  cause  and  effect  between 
the  siege  of  Jerusalem  and  its  capture,  that 
ended  the  first  Crusade,  and  the  siege  of  Vienna, 
that  six  hundred  years  later  immortalized  John 
Sobieski  and  broke  triumphantly  the  last  effort 
of  Islam  to  extend  its  propaganda  over  Europe. 
What  will  you  have,  0  Christians !  the  immoral 
reign  of  fatalism  with  the  hopeless  human  degra- 
dation of  the  Orient,  or  the  uplifting  reign  of 
freedom  with  the  general  human  progress  and 
exaltation  of  the  Occident  ?  Our  fathers  before 
us,  walking  in  a  dimmer  light,  chose  decisively 
and  made  the  history  that  I  have  been  outlining. 
If  the  citizens  of  the  Pacific  coast  gaze  out  to- 
day, as  the  masters  of  the  future  over  an  illimit- 
able Orient ;  if  the  evil  genius  that  some  grave 
historians  consider  the  real  Antichrist,  enthroned 
by  the  Golden  Horn,  is  now  threatened  from  the 
depths  of  the  Orient  itself ;  if  the  latest  phase  of 
this  eternal  warfare  between  the  ideals  of  the 
oldest  strata  of  humanity  and  those  of  the 
youngest   opens   with  universal  victory  written 


THE  RESULTS  OF  THE  CBUSADES.  381 

on  our  banners,  we  may  know  that  the  temper, 
the  spirit,  the  weapons,  the  persistency,  that 
have  uplifted  us,  were  not  created  in  a  day,  any 
more  than  the  conditions  of  the  Orient  are  the 
result  of  yesterday. 

Never  did  the  great  French  Catholic  states- 
man, Montalembert,  utter  a  truer  word  than 
when,  fifty  years  ago,  he  cried  out  in  the  French 
Chamber  of  Deputies,  "  We  are  the  sons  of  the 
Crusaders."  Freeman  has  said  that  all  history 
is  only  the  politics  of  the  past,  the  sure  and  real 
interests  of  mankind  which  have  gotten  crystal- 
lized by  the  shaping  activity  of  the  present  that 
strikes,  stamps,  and  returns  no  more.  History 
is  not  always  mere  writing  or  telling  —  very 
often  it  is  the  real  conditions,  the  institutions, 
the  social  framework  and  circumstance  of  our 
lives,  the  actual  dwelling  that  our  ancestors  have 
made  for  us.  The  Crusades  were  the  great  po- 
litical school  of  the  people  of  Europe,  as  they 
passed  from  their  crude  ebullient  youth  to  the 
maturity  of  man's  estate.^     It   is   not  without 

iThe  Crusades  are  not,  in  my  mind,  either  the  popular  de- 
lusions that  our  cheap  literature  has  determined  them  to  be,  nor 
papal  conspiracies  against  kings  and  peoples,  as  they  appear  to 
Protestant  controversialists  ;  nor  the  savage  outbreak  of  expiring 
barbarism,  thirsting  for  blood  and  plunder,  nor  volcanic  explo- 
sions of  religious  tolerance.     I  believe  them  to  have  been  in  their 


382  THE  BESULTS  OF  THE  CRUSADES. 

design  that  Shakespeare;  dealing  in  "  Richard  the 
Second''    with   the  most  profound  problems  of 


deep  sources,  and  in  the  minds  of  their  best  champions,  and  in 
the  main  tendency  of  their  results,  capable  of  ample  justification. 
They  were  the  first  great  effort  of  mediseval  life  to  go  beyond  the 
pursuit  of  selfish  and  isolated  ambitions ;  they  were  the  trial-feat 
of  the  young  world,  essaying  to  use,  to  the  glory  of  God  and  the 
benefit  of  man,  the  arms  of  its  new  knighthood.  That  they  failed 
in  their  direct  object  is  only  what  may  be  alleged  against  almost 
every  great  design  which  the  great  disposer  of  events  has  moulded 
to  help  the  world's  progress ;  for  the  world  has  grown  wise  from 
the  experience  of  failure,  rather  than  by  the  winning  of  high  aims. 
That  the  good  they  did  was  largely  leavened  with  evil  may  be  said 
of  every  war  that  has  ever  been  waged  ;  that  bad  men  rose  by  them 
while  good  men  fell,  is  and  must  be  true,  wherever  and  whenever 
the  race  is  to  the  swift  and  the  battle  to  the  strong.  But  that  in 
the  end  they  were  a  benefit  to  the  world  no  one  who  reads  can 
doubt ;  and  that  in  their  course  they  brought  out  a  love  for  all  that 
is  heroic  in  human  nature,  the  love  of  freedom,  the  honor  of  prow- 
ess, sympathy  with  sorrow,  perseverance  to  the  last,  the  chronicles 
of  the  age  abundantly  prove  ;  proving,  moreover,  that  it  was  by 
the  experience  of  these  times  that  the  forms  of  those  virtues  were 
realized  and  presented  to  posterity. — Bishop  Stubbs,  "Seven- 
teen Lectures  on  Mediaeval  and  Modern  History,"  p.  180. 

It  used  to  be  the  fashion  to  regard  the  Crusades  as  mere  fan- 
tastic exhibitions  of  a  temporary  turbulent  religious  fanaticism, 
aiming  at  ends  wholly  visionary,  and  missing  them,  wasting  the 
best  life  of  Europe  in  colossal  and  bloody  undertakings,  and  leav- 
ing effects  only  of  evil  for  the  time  which  came  after.  More  rea- 
sonable views  now  prevail ;  and  while  the  impulse  in  which  the 
vast  movement  took  its  rise  is  recognized  as  passionate  and  semi- 
barbaric,  it  is  seen  that  many  effects  followed  which  were  beneficent 
rather  than  harmful,  which  could  not  perhaps  have  been  at  the 
time  in  other  ways  realized.  As  I  have  already  suggested,  proper- 
ties were  to  an  important  extent  redistributed  in  Europe,  and  the 
constitution  of  States  was  favorably  effected.  Lands  were  sold  at 
low  prices  by  those  who  were  going  on  the  distant  expeditions, 
very  probably,  as  they  knew,  never  to  return;  and  horses  and 


THE  RESULTS  OF  THE  CBUSADES.  383 

the  English  Constitution,  sets  down  among  the 
pubhc  merits  of  a  great  English  noble  his  devo- 
tion to  the  political  ideals  of  Christendom:  — 

"  Many  a  time  hath  banish'd  Norfolk  fought 
For  Jesu  Christ  in  glorious  Christian  field 
Streaming  the  ensign  of  the  Christian  Cross 
Against  black  pagans,  Turks,  and  Saracens." 

The  Crusades  developed  in  a  humane  sense  the 
art  of  war.  Captives  were  habitually  ransomed 
for  money  that  was  gravely  needed  by  both 
sides  as  real  sinews  of  war;  thus  the  whole- 
armor,  with  all  martial  equipments,  were  bought  at  high  prices 
by  the  Jews,  who  could  not  hold  land,  and  the  history  of  whom 
throughout  the  Middle  Ages  is  commonly  traced  in  fearful  lines  of 
blood  and  fire,  but  who  increased  immeasurably''  their  movable  wealth 
through  these  transfers  of  property.  Communes  bought  liberties 
by  large  contributions  to  the  needs  of  their  lord  ;  and  their  liberties, 
once  secured,  were  naturally  confirmed  and  augmented,  as  the 
years  went  on.  The  smaller  tended  to  be  absorbed  in  the  larger ; 
the  larger  often  to  come  more  strictly  under  royal  control,  thus  in- 
creasing the  power  of  the  sovereign  —  which  meant  at  the  time, 
general  laws,  instead  of  local,  a  less  minutely  oppressive  adminis- 
tration, the  furtherance  of  the  movement  toward  national  unity. 
It  is  a  noticeable  fact  that  Italy  took  but  a  small  part,  compara- 
tively, in  the  Crusades  ;  and  the  long  postponement  of  organic  union 
between  different  parts  of  the  magnificent  peninsula  is  not  with- 
out relation  to  this.  The  influence  which  operated  elsewhere  in 
Europe  to  efface  distinctions  of  custom  and  language  in  separate 
communities,  to  override  and  extinguish  local  animosities,  to  make 
scattered  peoples  conscious  of  kinship,  did  not  operate  there  ;  and 
the  persistent  severance  of  sections  from  each  other,  favored  of 
course  by  the  run  of  the  rivers  and  the  vast  separating  walls  of  the 
Apenines,  was  the  natural  consequence  of  the  want  of  this  power- 
ful unifying  force. — Storrs,  "Bernard  of  Clairvaux,"  New  York 
(Scribner's),  1897,  pp.  541-45. 


384  THE  RESULTS  OF  THE  CRUSADES. 

sale  slaughter  of  more  barbarous  times  was 
avoided.  The  men  of  the  West  learned  the  light 
Parthian  tactics  of  the  Orient,  also  the  daily 
exercises  with  bow  and  lance  and  sword,  the 
details  of  commissariat  and  transportation,  the 
cost  and  difficulties  and  consequences  of  a  great 
war.  Their  weapons  grew  lighter,  and  their 
armor  and  horses  more  manageable.  The  eccle- 
siastical military  orders,  and  the  many  European 
ladies  of  rank  who  followed  their  lords  to  the 
sepulchre  of  Christ,  introduced  milder  manners, 
and  a  humanity  unknown  to  the  earlier  times. 
The  sorrows  and  defeats  of  the  Crusaders,  their 
humiliations  and  losses,  were  very  often  borne 
in  a  spirit  of  Christian  faith,  as  a  rebuke  from 
God  for  their  own  wrong-doings  and  evil  lives. 
The  natural  virtues  of  Islam,  the  courtesy  and 
chivalry  of  its  warriors,  were  not  without  their 
effect  on  the  Christian  knight.  The  legends  of 
the  Crusades  are  filled  with  figures  of  Moslems 
renowned  for  bravery  and  hospitality,  gentleness 
and  courtesy.  A  Richard  Lion-Heart  finds  a 
Saladin  his  peer  in  many  things. 

The  art  of  navigation  profited  very  much  by 
the  Crusades  —  the  vessels  were  made  larger  for 
the  growing  multitudes  of  pilgrims  and  warriors, 
for  the  transportation  of  horses  and  provisions. 


THE  RESULTS  OF  THE  CRUSADES.  385 

The  masts  and  the  sails  were  enlarged  and  were 
multiplied.  The  art  of  sailing  by  the  wind  was 
learned.  Every  such  progress  was  a  step  toward 
the  discovery  of  the  new  world.  The  skill  of  a 
Christopher  Columbus  was  an  inherited  thing, 
acquired  through  the  experience  of  several  long 
generations  of  his  ancestors  in  the  service  of 
Genoa. 

We  owe  to  the  Crusades  the  use  of  the  drum, 
the  trmnpet,  the  light  and  slender  lance.  The 
science  of  heraldry  dates  from  the  period  of  the 
Crusades,  and  though  it  may  not  contribute 
much  to  the  comfort  of  humanity,  it  plays  a 
prominent  role  in  the  development  of  the  fine 
arts  and  of  the  social  life  of  Europe  in  the  last 
few  centuries.  Many  fruit  trees  now  common 
in  the  West  were  then  introduced  into  Europe 
from  Asia  Minor,  or  the  lowlands  of  Meso- 
potamia, their  natural  home.  The  apricot,  the 
pear,  the  peach,  the  plum,  trees  and  shrubs  and 
flowers  of  uncommon  beauty  and  elegance,  made 
their  way  in  this  manner  into  the  States  of 
Europe.  Some  curious  things  found  a  new  home 
for  themselves ;  thus,  the  windmills  that  are  so 
common  in  Holland  and  Brandenburg  were  im- 
ported from  the  Orient.  Until  the  Crusades 
men  of   standing  were   usually   shaven  —  since 


V 


386  THE  BESULTS  OF  THE  CRUSADES. 

then  the  observance  of  this  civilized  relic  of 
ancient  society  has  been  abandoned  to  the  clergy. 
Healing  recipes  and  plants  of  the  Orient  became 
the  common  property  of  the  West.  Medical 
theory  and  practice  gained  much  by  the  study  of 
Arabic  writings  that  bore  along  the  learning  and 
experience  of  Greece.  The  hospital  service  at 
Jerusalem  and  elsewhere  opened  a  new  era  in 
the  history  of  Christian  charity. 

The  cause  of  human  freedom  was  greatly 
benefited  by  the  Crusades.  Knight  and  peasant 
fought  •  side  by  side  for  many  years,  rendered 
mutual  service,  shared  the  same  hardships,  and 
learned  to  esteem  one  another.     Thus  the  theory 

--  of  Christian  equality  was  daily  reduced  to  reality. 
Then  again,  the  knight  needed  ready  money  for 
his  equipment,  to  pay  off  his  creditors  before 
departing,  to  provide  for  his  family.  He  got  it 
from  his  vassals,  but  before  they  paid  it  over,  he 
was  bound  to  secure  them  certain  rights  and 
privileges  in  solemn  forms  of  writing.  So  arose 
on  every  estate   of   France    and   Germany  free 

•  towns  and  cities,  legally  recognized  by  their 
former  lords  as  independent  and  self-governing. 
Local  and  private  feuds  ceased  to  a  great  extent 
during  the  Crusades ;  there  was  a  certain  halo 
about  the  homes  of  those  who  were  supposed 


THE  RESULTS  OF  THE  CBUSADES.  387 

to  be  bent  on  freeing  tbe  common  home  of 
all  Christians.  The  national  unities  of  France, 
England,  and  Germany  had  then  a  chance  to 
grow,  unmolested  by  the  earlier  anarchy  of 
primitive  feudalism.  The  numerous  serfs  on  the 
knights'  estates  became  free  peasants  in  time  by 
service  in  the  wars  or  by  purchase ;  at  the  other 
end  of  the  State  the  king  entered  at  last  upon 
the  authority  necessary  to  preserve  order  and 
develop  the  common  weal. 

The  mystery  of  the  Orient,  the  long  absences 
of  the  knights  and  their  squires,  the  new  strange 
romance  of  their  lives,  without  parallel  in  the 
experience  of  the  West,  the  curiosities  of  art  and 
commerce  that  soon  multiplied,  gave  a  great  im- 
petus to  the  literatures  of  Europe  —  notably  to 
poetry  and  song.  The  courtly  troubadours  and 
the  gay  minnesinger  are  the  creatures  of  the 
Crusades.  The  tournaments,  the  courts  of  love, 
the  moderation  and  refining  of  personal  man- 
ners, popular  habits,  and  institutions,  all  date 
from  these  great  wars  that  furnished  an  infinity  of 
data  to  the  busy  brain  and  the  wagging  tongue 
of  many  a  strolling  poet  or  musician  from 
Otranto  to  Drontheim. 

Italy  took  little  part,  as  a  militant  element,  in 
the  Crusades,  partly  because  of  its  thorough  dis- 


388  THE  RESULTS  OF  THE  CRUSADES. 

union  —  partly  because  of  its  superior  culture. 
The  Italians  soon  saw  that  there  was  greater 
profit  for  them  in  the  transportation  of  their 
Christian  brethren,  the  care  of  the  commissariat, 
and  the  establishment  of  commerce.  After  all, 
these  were  necessary  things,  and  the  great  cities 
of  Venice  and  Genoa  were  admirably  located  for 
the  work,  as  was  also  their  rival  Pisa.  They 
enabled  the  Crusaders  to  cross  the  ocean  quickly 
and  successfully ;  they  brought  with  them  men 
skilled  in  the  art  of  sieges ;  they  were  the  secre- 
taries and  couriers  of  the  French  and  German 
knighte  —  supple,  cautious,  wiry,  alert,  very 
Christian  indeed,  but  with  a  sharp  eye  for  the 
goods  of  this  world.  They  took  out  their  pay  in 
commercial  privileges  and  are  the  genuine  fore- 
runners of  all  modern  commerce.  Along  the 
coast  of  Syria  and  of  Asia  Minor,  from  Smyrna 
to  Beirut,  there  was  in  every  port  an  Italian 
quarter.  In  the  roadstead  lay  their  galleys, 
high,  broad,  elegant  for  that  day.  In  their 
special  reservation  were  always  a  church,  a  bath, 
a  bakery,  wharves,  stores,  a  market-place,  a  bank 
and  office  of  exchang-e.  The  Italian  tong;ue  was 
the  tongue  of  Oriental  commerce.  Bookkeeping 
and  the  use  of  Arabic  numerals,  the  system  of 
drafts  and  bills  of  exchange,  letters  of  credit  and 


THE  BESULT8  OF  THE  CRUSADES.  389 

the  like,  sprang  up  on  these  foreign  shores  —  the 
departing  Templar  or  Hospitaller  sold  out  his 
estate  in  Syria  and  received  his  money ^  his  gold 
bezants  or  angels,  over  the  counters  of  corre- 
spondents in  Paris,  London,  or  Rome.  The  flag 
of  Venice  or  Genoa  or  Pisa  floated  always  over 
these  little  strongholds  of  commerce,  that  were 
lono;  an  abomination  to  the  "malimant  and 
turbaned  Turk."  From  the  remoter  Orient  came 
through  the  hands  of  the  Italian  merchant  the 
silks  of  China,  the  spices  of  Borneo,  the  fruits  of 
Asia  Minor,  the  ivory  and  pearls  of  India.  His 
correspondents  were  at  Naples  and  Milan  and 
Florence,  at  Marseilles  and  Bordeaux,  at  London 
and  Paris,  at  Kieff  and  Novgorod.  Oranges  and 
figs,  sugar  and  wine  and  oil,  brocades  and  mus- 
lins, fine  tapestries  and  costly  rugs,  colored  glass 
of  Tyre  and  steel  blades  of  Damascus  —  a  thou- 
sand articles  of  use  and  ornament  could  be  met 
with  upon  his  manifests.  And  so  the  city  life 
of  Europe  took  on  a  charm,  an  elegance,  a 
variety  that  it  had  never  known  before.  The 
middle  classes  date  from  those  days  —  the  opu- 
lent tradesman  and  the  cultured  merchant,  the 
skilled  laborer  and  the  substantial  banker.  The 
turbulent  republics  of  Italy,  the  first  great  temple 
of  democracy  since  the  overthrow  of  Athens  and 


390  THE  RESULTS   OF  THE  CBUSADES. 

Sparta,  arose  on  this  trade,  and  by  their  wealth 
defied  emperor  and  baron,  by  the  same  permitted 
themselves  the  expensive  luxury  of  yearly  con- 
stitutions, wholesale  proscriptions,  political  ex- 
periments without  number.  The  common  man 
had  now  a  hundred  avenues  of  opportunity  open 
to  him,  of  escape  from  a  hemming  and  stifling 
feudalism,  of  elevation  into  a  higher  and  more 
independent  sphere  of  energy.  The  monotonous 
life  of  the  remote  castle  took  on  color  and  variety. 
Everywhere  the  vivifying  current  of  commerce 
cut  a  channel  for  ifself .  European  mankind  had 
burst  the  bonds  of  its  swaddling  clothes,  saw 
and  measured  with  eagerness  the  great  world, 
and  recognized  the  fulness  and  glory  of  its  new 
opportunities. 

The  first  progress  of  mediaeval  medicine  and 
constitutional  law  is  closely  related  to  these 
great  movements  of  mankind  to  the  East.  Out 
of  them  came  the  first  conscious  lay  attempts  at 
a  civil  government  based  on  written  law  —  the 
feudal  States  of  Syria.  Almost  the  first  written 
codes  of  mediaeval  law  are  the  Assizes  of  Jerusa- 
lem, a  formally  excogitated  and  guaranteed  leg- 
islation for  all  classes.  Commercial  law,  that 
had  made  little  progress  since  the  code  of  Amalfi, 
was  reduced  to  writing  and  to  a  system.     Mari- 


THE  RESULTS  OF  THE  CRUSADES.  391 

time  and  military  law,  the  old  imperial  traditions 
and  the  valuable  experience  of  Constantinople, 
asserted  themselves  —  in  a  word,  the  Crusades 
were  the  first  great  school  of  general  and  common 
civilized  life  for  all  the  nations  of  Europe. 

Not  only  did  they  increase  the  knowledge  of 
the  world  and  widen  the  horizon  of  learning  — 
they  brought  out  very  high  qualities  of  moral 
life.  Personality  asserted  itself  very  strongly, 
given  the  weakness  of  authority  and  the  count- 
less new  perils  of  these  undertakings.  If  monk 
and  priest  were  zealous  and  eloquent,  the  baron 
and  his  men  were  heroic  and  enduring.  A  new 
public  consciousness  was  aroused,  and  there 
dawned  on  the  humblest  mind  the  possibility  of 
what  a  united  Christendom  could  do.  Nations 
were  drawn  together  closely  in  this  lively  en- 
terprise. The  wealth  and  elegance  of  Moslem 
society  impressed  the  Crusaders,  as  also  did  the 
polish  and  culture  of  Constantinople  and  its 
Greek  society.  One  was  infidel  and  the  other 
schismatic,  yet  daily  contact  with  both  begot 
more  liberal  and  tolerant  relations.  The  ele- 
ments of  common  humanity  asserted  themselves 
in  diplomacy  and  hospitality,  in  ransom  and  truce 
and  single  combat ;  the  courteous  and  enlightened 
toleration  of  modern  society  is  all  in  germ  in  the 


392  THE  BESULTS  OF  THE  CRUSADES. 

mediaevar  Crusades.  Men  hate  one  another, 
says  Silvio  Pellico,  only  because  they  do  not 
know  one  another. 

In  these  two  centuries,  therefore,  the  world 
of  Europe  expanded  mightily  and  organically. 
The  once  barbarian  Germanic  peoples,  educated 
in  their  infancy  by  the  Catholic  Church,  broke 
the  bonds  of  serflike  dependency,  cast  aside  their 
primitive  narrow  feudalism,  and  could  in  time 
become  the  great  States  of  Europe.  They  went 
forth,  sword  in  hand,  across  land  and  sea,  in 
pursuit  of  a  high  spiritual  ideal,  and  while  they 
did  not  realize  it,  nevertheless  it  drew  them  like 
a  star  to  great  heights  of  personal  endeavor  and 
social  achievement.  Fine  qualities  of  mind  and 
heart  were  developed  in  these  enterprises  that 
partook  at  once  of  the  conquests  of  an  Alexan- 
der and  the  results  of  colonization.  The  cycle 
of  social  life  was  immeasurably  enlarged.  Po- 
liteness established  its  reign  with  the  elevation 
of  woman,  that  came  through  the  Church  and 
the  institutions  of  chivalry.  The  arts  and 
sciences  of  the  Greek  Orient  and  the  Moslem 
world  were  made  known  to  Europe.  Literature 
found  new  models,  new  ideals  and  aspirations ; 
the  singers  of  the  people  new  notes,  new  themes, 
new   passions.      Industry   and   commerce   were 


THE  RESULTS  OF  THE  CRUSADES.  393 

admitted  as  factors  in  the  new  States  of  Europe 
and  the  Orient.  All  the  factors  that  were  to 
bring  about  the  creation  of  modern  society,  with 
the  exception  of  the  latest  inventions,  were  then 
planted  on  the  soil  of  Europe.  Unity,  assimila- 
tion, progress,  go  back  to  these  great  displace- 
ments of  European  humanity.  No  doubt  there 
w^as  much  injustice,  much  crime  and  human 
folly  —  but  wars  have  their  civilizing  and  hu- 
manizing functions  as  well  as  peace.  They  are 
often  unavoidable  and  they  have  their  allotted 
place  in  the  divine  plan  that  surely  governs  the 
world  of  men  and  things.  Though  we  may 
never  again  see  a  united  Christendom,  it  will 
always  be  a  consolation  to  every  adorer  of  Jesus 
Christ  that  for  one  brief  hour  in  the  history  of 
Western  humanity  His  cross  dominated  all 
social  life,  drew  to  it  every  class  of  men,  shone 
resplendent  and  humanizing  in  the  zenith  of 
public  life,  affected  all  legislation  and  human 
development,  impressed  its  spiritual  meaning  on 
millions  of  hearts,  and  seemed  like  the  holy 
aurora  of  the  long-sighed-for  millennium. 


ON  THE  ITALIAN  RENAISSANCE. 

By  the  word  ^*  Renaissance  "  is  usually  meant 
that  period  of  mediseval  history  in  which  the 
ideas,  tastes,  artistic  principles,  and  the  political 
spirit  of  Grseco-Roman  or  pagan  antiquity  for 
the  first  time  asserted  themselves  in  Christian 
society,  and  finally,  to  a  greater  or  lesser  extent, 
prevailed  and  affected  the  development  of  all 
Christian  peoples.  The  time,  roughly  speaking, 
is  the  fifteenth  and  sixteenth  centuries  —  though 
the  glorious  and  t}^ical  period  really  comes  to 
an  end  with  the  death  of  Pope  Leo  the  Tenth 
and  the  careers  of  Raphael  and  Michael  Angelo. 
In  something  less  than  one  hundred  years  there 
occurred,  chiefly  in  Italy,  a  vigorous  advance  in 
all  that  pertained  to  classical  learning  and  the 
fine  arts.  First  the  Latin  and  then  the  Greek 
authors  of  antiquity  were  either  discovered  for 
the  first  time,  or  studied  and  appreciated  from  a 
new  point  of  view.  The  best  manuscript  copies 
of  them  were  sought  out  with  avidity.  Popes 
and  kings,  bishops  and  rich  individuals,  kept 
great   scholars   travelling  in  all   directions   for 

394 


ON  THE  ITALIAN  RENAISSANCE.  395 

such  literary  treasures.  An  unknown  work  of 
Cicero,  or  a  fragment  of  Tacitus,  was  hailed 
with  scarcely  less  enthusiasm  than  the  discovery 
of  America.  The  conflict  of  the  great  popes  of 
Eome  and  the  emperors  of  Germany,  the  political 
failure  of  the  Crusades,  the  increase  of  the  city 
populations  and  the  growth  of  new  cities,  the 
perfection  of  social  intercourse,  the  rise  of  great 
banking  houses,  the  increased  value  of  arable 
lands,  the  grt)wing  trade  of  Venice  and  Genoa 
and  Florence  with  the  Orient  —  the  only  im- 
mediate result  of  the  Crusades  —  were  so  many 
remote  causes  of  this  revival,  which  is  less  a 
sudden  outgrowth  than  a  natural  development 
of  the  Middle  Ages. 

Then,  the  popes  had  come  back  to  Rome  at 
the  opening  of  this  period.  The  unhappy  schisms 
that  were  rending  Europe  before  the  rival  claims 
of  three  or  four  bishops  to  the  See  of  Rome  had 
been  finally  settled  at  the  Council  of  Constance 
(1418)  to  the  content  of  Christendom,  and  that 
pontifical  unity  restored  which  has  now  lasted 
for  five  hundred  years.  Rome  was  again  a 
centre  of  government,  and  the  papacy  again  a 
Roman  institution.  It  was  no  longer  in  the 
hands  of  one  nation,  France,  nor  dominated  by 
the  interests  of  that  one  people.    Italy  itself  had 


396  ON  THE  ITALIAN  RENAISSANCE, 

gradually  emerged  from  the  political  anarchy  of 
the  fourteenth  century  into  a  certain  unity.  Five 
great  States  were  solidly  established  on  the  Italian 
peninsula  and  held  a  balance  of  power  that  was 
not  disturbed  with  success  until  the  end  of  the 
fifteenth  century,  when  the  municipal  revolu- 
tions of  Florence  opened  to  France,  Spain,  and 
Austria  the  road  of  successive  domination  over 
the  peoples  of  Italy.  To  these  five  States  — 
Naples,  Florence,  Milan,  Venice,  ^nd  Rome  — 
were  subject  a  multitude  of  smaller  cities  and 
principalities,  in  greater  or  lesser  degree,  with 
more  or  less  acquiescence.  Some  of  these  States 
were  quite  feudal  and  aristocratic,  others  quite 
popular  and  democratic.  Still,  the  land  was 
administered  with  a  certain  regularity  of  sys- 
tem. The  prosperity  of  Italy  was  perhaps  never 
greater ;  there  were  wars  and  sieges  and  revo- 
lutions—  but  they  were  seldom  bloody.  The 
Italians  are  henceforth  merchants  and  farmers. 
The  wars  are  carried  on  by  wandering  bands  of 
hired  ruffians  from  Germany  and  England  and 
France  —  the  famous  Condottieri,  whose  aim  is 
always  to  save  their  own  carcasses  and  extort 
the  last  penny  from  their  employers.  Nearly 
everywhere  the  old  popular  liberties  have  lost 
their   meaning,  the   popular   constitutions  have 


ON  THE  ITALIAN  EENAISSANCE.  397 

ceased  to  operate,  and  the  political  power  is  held 
by  some  bold  and  resourceful  man.  Liberty  had 
mostly  been  begotten  in  turbulence  and  disorder 
' — when  the  period  of  parturition  was  over  the 
masses  sank  exhausted  to  the  level  of  mere 
enjoyment.  In  the  Italian  city-states  hence- 
forth it  is  the  age  of  the  "  tyrants,"  the  "  des- 
pots," very  much  like  certain  periods  of  old 
Greek  history,  when  the  richest  merchant  in  the 
State  seized  on  the  reins  of  authority,  slew  or 
exiled  or  imprisoned  the  heads  of  factions,  im- 
posed his  will  on  the  people,  gave  them  peace 
and  comfort,  and  put  the  revenues  in  his  own 
treasury.  Italy  was  dominated  by  these  men  — 
the  Medici  at  Florence,  the  Farnesi  at  Naples, 
the  Visconti  and  Sforza  at  Milan,  the  Baglioni 
at  Perugia,  the  Malatesta  at  Rimini,  and  a  host 
of  smaller  but  no  less  masterful  men,  no  less 
quick,  watchful,  and  resolute.  They  were  nearly 
all  new  men,  either  scions  of  the  smaller  nobility c 
or  daring  spirits  from  the  lower  strata  of  Italian 
life.  None  of  them  inherited  his  power.  Each 
one  got  it  by  some  deed  of  violence  or  cunning, 
some  great  personal  act  of  intelligent  political 
boldness  or  "virtii"  that  command  universal 
attention  and  admiration.  Of  course,  he  held 
his  standing,  his  "stato,"  by  the  same  policy. 


398  ON  THE  ITALIAN  BENAISSANCE. 

To  such  men  the  classical  revival,  particularly 
the  Latin,  became  an  instrument  of  government. 
The  native  Latin  scholars  got  employment  and 
salaries  and  distinction  from  them.  It  came 
about  that  an  Italian  man  could  advance  more 
quickly  with  a  Latin  speech  of  Ciceronian  ele- 
gance, or  a  mouthful  of  sharp  and  pungent 
epigrams.,  than  with  a  big  war-horse  and  a  coat 
of  mail.  Moreover,  all  this  was  in  the  his- 
tory and  manners  of  the  people  of  Italy,  whose 
soil  had  been  for  centuries  the  ''  dancing-field 
of  Mars,"  the  "  dark  and  bloody  ground "  of 
Europe.  The  centres  of  government  were  no 
longer  the  lonely  castles  or  cloud-kissing  burgs 
of  the  Apennines  or  the  Abruzzi.  The  hard 
and  unlovely  feudal  rule  of  Colonna  and  Orsini, 
of  Frangipani  and  Conti,  was  over  with  the 
Gregorys  and  the  Innocents,  the  Henrys  and 
the  Fredericks.  Italy  was  now  governed  as  of 
old,  from  her  cultured  cities.  She  still  knew 
only  a  government  by  imperium,  but  it  was  now 
to  be  exercised  with  the  moderation  born  of 
humanitas.  The  stern  mediaeval  fortress  was 
abandoned  with  its  moat  and  its  drawbridge, 
and  the  house  of  the  despot,  the  very  spot  where 
he  had  risen  to  greatness,  was  enlarged,  beauti- 
fied, and  made  the  seat  of  government.    Enough 


ON  THE  ITALIAN  RENAISSANCE.  399 

big  Germans  and  Englishmen,  adventurers  and 
semi-outlaws  of  all  Europe,  were  kept  on  hand 
to  overawe  the  unruly  elements  of  the  popula- 
tion, to  form  a  bodyguard  for  the  despot,  but 
the  palace  was  given  over  practically  to  the 
enjoyment  of  life  —  to  the  recitation  of  poems 
and  tales  of  chivalry,  to  musical  and  theatrical 
entertainments,  to  every  kind  of  amusement 
that  could  beguile  the  uncertain  leisure  of  the 
master  and  his  numerous  household,  or  distract 
the  wealthy  and  the  influential  from  meditation 
on  the  gilded  slavery  into  which  they  had  fallen. 
The  despot's  position  was  by  no  means  secure 
from  revenge,  envy,  or  popular  whim.  Now 
and  then  velleities,  vague  souvenirs  of  liberty, 
awoke  faintly  in  the  heart  of  some  exalted 
youth,  or  romantically  transfigured  reminis- 
cences of  popular  freedom  stirred  up  some 
belated  Rienzi.  But  the  Italian  peoples  were 
now  prosperous  in  peace,  and  all  such  fruitless 
efforts  stand  out  as  proofs  of  the  general  con- 
tentment with  the  political  situation.  The  re- 
publican spirit  was  dead,  and  the  peninsula  was 
moving  through  despotism  and  oligarchy  to  its 
final  monarchical  constitution. 

The  last  century  was  the  great  epoch  of  in- 
ventions.    They  crowd  one  another  so  fast;  we 


400  07V  THE  ITALIAN  BENAISSANCE. 

are  so  near  them,  so  in  the  midst  of  the  far- 
reaching  social  changes  they  are  imposing  on  us, 
that  we  cannot  yet  appreciate  with  finahty  their 
importance.  So  it  was  in  the  fifteenth  century 
with  practical  politics.  Events  of  the  greatest 
interest  for  the  world  followed  with  startling 
rapidity  on  one  another  —  the  healing  of  the 
great  Schism  of  the  West  (1418),  the  Fall  of 
Cons'tantinople  (1453),  the  growth  of  Venice  as 
queen  of  the  seas,  the  natural  ambition  of  regen- 
erated France  to .  pose  as  political  mistress  of 
Europe,  the  simultaneous  creation  of  a  splendid 
Spanish  monarchy  that  dominated  Germany, 
Austria,  Italy,  and  the  Netherlands,  and  under- 
took to  dispute  those  claims  of  France  on  a 
hundred  bloody  fields.  On  all  sides  human  in- 
terest, curiosity,  energy,  were  aroused.  Infinite 
opportunities  arose,  even  before  the  discovery  of 
America.  Man  came  almost  at  once  to  know 
himself  as  the  source  of  the  greatest  things,  to 
look  on  himself  as  capable  of  infinite  progress 
in  any  direction.  After  the  long  mediaeval  era 
of  collectivism  an  era  of  individualism  had  set 
in,  and  the  Italian  man  was  the  best  equipped 
for  the  new  order  of  things.  His  experience, 
bought  in  blood  and  tears,  in  a  multitudinous 
wrestling  of  several  centuries,  was  his  title  to 


ON  THE  ITALIAN  RENAISSANCE.  401 

preeminency.  A  long  series  of  historical  events 
was  behind  him,  during  which  all  the  great 
factors  of  European  life  had  arisen,  developed 
and  conflicted  with  one  another.  It  was  an 
hour,  if  ever,  for  the  philosopher  of  history,  and 
he  was  at  hand.  It  was  in  this  Italian  political 
world,  at  once  old  and  new  —  old  with  the  relig- 
ious heart  and  experience,  the  faith  and  the 
family  life  of  the  Middle  Ages ;  new  with  all  the 
prophetic  stirrings  and  impulses  of  the  future  — 
that  Latin  and  Greek  learning,  the  poets,  philos- 
ophers and  historians  of  pagan  antiquity,  found 
the  nation  of  disciples  best  fitted  for  them.  The 
Italian  tongue  is  the  Latin  tongue  of  the  com- 
mon people,  peasantry,  and  soldiers  of  Old  Rome, 
only  modified  by  contact  with  the  Teutonic  dia- 
lects and  filled  with  a  new  Christian  content  and 
spirit  through  contact  with  Catholicism.  So 
the  Latin  classics,  as  they  came  back  into  daily 
life  with  Petrarch  and  Boccaccio  and  their  name- 
less contemporaries,  with  Valla  and  Poggio  and 
so  many  others,  awoke  from  their  secular  sleep, 
as  it  were  in  their  own  family  circle.  Their 
spirit  and  their  ideals  of  life  and  man,  their 
vague  or  negative  teaching  about  the  soul  and 
the  future,  their  amorphous  notions  of  God, 
righteousness,  sin  and  evil,  their  cold  cynicism 


402  ON  THE  ITALIAN  BENAISSANCE, 

and  ruinous  agnosticism^  their  ineffable  obscenity 
and  their  cringing  adulation  of  force  and  suc- 
cess, their  hopeless  moral  debasement  and  their 
refined  intellectualism  —  all  these  things  came 
back  with  them  and  appealed  to  the  rising  gener- 
ation of  Italians  with  a  siren  voice.  Literature 
was  always  their  national  weakness,  and  the 
sources  and  agencies  of  it  —  schools,  books, 
writing  —  were  always  better  preserved  in  Italy 
than  elsewhere.  The  monuments  of  Roman 
grandeur  were  there;  her  cities  never  forgot 
that  they  were  the  homes  of  the  great  poets ; 
Mantua  boasted  of  Yergil's  birth,  and  Naples  of 
possessing  his  tomb ;  Padua  was  proud  of  her 
historian  Livy,  and  Tibur  of  her  satirist  Horace. 
It  was  the  first  thing  that  the  children  in  the 
schools  learned  and  the  last  thing  that  the  aged 
citizens  forgot.  All  through  the  fifteenth  cen- 
tury went  on  a  constant  excavation  of  the  soil 
on  the  sites  of  these  ancient  cities,  with  the 
result  that  thousands  of  marble  statues  were 
found,  the  best  work  of  a  multitude  of  those 
Greek  sculptors  of  the  early  empire  who  rej)eated 
for  their  imperial  masters,  at  Rhodes  or  else- 
where on  the  coast  of  Asia  Minor,  the  mas- 
terpieces of  the  glorious  art  of  their  Hellenic 
fatherland.      The   Law   of   Rome,  that   perfect 


OJSr  THE  ITALIAN  BENAISSANCE.  403 

mirror  of  the  genius  of  the  Eternal  City,  had  for 
four  hundred  years  been  the  constant  study  of 
Italians,  both  laymen  and  clerics,  and  thereby 
they  had  risen  to  eminence,  not  only  at  home,  but 
in  every  land  of  Europe.  Its  spirit  of  absolutism, 
its  enticing  suggestions  and  examples  of  admin- 
istrative centralization,  its  large  and  luminous 
principles,  its  appeals  to  human  reason  and  the 
common  experience  of  mankind,  its  temper  of 
finality  and  practical  infallibility,  made  it  the 
great  working  code  of  the  fifteenth  and  six- 
teenth centuries  —  likewise  the  sepulchre  of 
mediaBval  liberties  and  independence. 

This  universal  interest  of  Italians  as  commen- 
tators and  expounders  of  an  old  national  system 
of  law  and  order,  naturally  developed  much  intel- 
lectual liberty.  A  lawyer  is  notoriously  useless 
if  he  cannot  see  at  least  one  other  side  to  every 
question  that  can  arise.  And  there  were  many 
of  them  in  contemporary  Italy  who  had  been 
long  accustomed,  like  Hudibras,  to 

"  Distinguish  and  divide 
A  hair  'twixt  south  and  southwest  side." 

Then,  too,  the  layman  had  never  been  so 
ignorant  in  Italy  as  in  Germany  and  England. 
Not  only  was  the  career  of  the  law  always  open 
to  him,  but  also  that  of  schoolmaster,  of  notary. 


404  ON  TEE  ITALIAN  BENAISSANCE, 

of  tutor  —  and  the  noble  and  ricli  youth  of  Italy 
was  always  brought  up  by  tutors.  Vet  tor  in  o  da 
Feltre  and  Guarino  da  Verona  were  only  excel- 
lent in  a  multitude  of  lay  teachers  of  the  quat- 
trocento. The  man  of  Italy  was  architect^  artist, 
jurist,  traveller,  merchant  —  in  a  word,  just  as 
the  bishops  of  Italy  dominate  less  in  the  politi- 
cal life  of  the  nation  than  those  of  Germany 
or  England,  so  there  was  in  every  city  and 
town  a  clear-headed  and  self-conscious  percentage 
of  laymen,  highly  educated  for  the  time,  and 
persuaded  that  they  were  the  representatives  of 
the  majesty  of  ancient  Rome.  Their  hearts  and 
minds  were  of  course  like  wax  for  the  new  move- 
ment toward  a  revival  of  the  times  in  which 
their  forefathers  had  governed  all  civilized  hu- 
manity. 

These  elements  alone  would  have  sufficed  to 
create  a  renaissance  of  learning  on  the  soil  of 
Italy.  And,  indeed,  it  was  far  advanced  when 
Greek  scholarship  came  to  its  aid,  and  gave  it 
a  powerful  impulse  and  a  logical  basis.  As  a 
matter  of  fact  the  poetry,  philosophy,  and  art  of 
Rome  were  originally  borrowed  from  the  Greeks. 
The  Roman,  left  to  himself,  was  a  shrewd  farmer, 
a  patient,  obedient  soldier,  a  painstaking  lawyer. 
Further  afield  in  the  world  of  the  mind  the  Catos 


ON  THE  ITALIAN  BENAISSANCE.  405 

and  Scipios  never  went  —  in  fact,  they  scented 
a  grave  danger  in   the  absolute  intellectnalism 
of  Greece  as  soon  as  it  rose  above  their  social 
horizon.     But  the  fine  mind  of  Greece  was  too 
beautiful  —  and  beauty  has  always  an  hour  of 
victory  —  to  be  kept  out  of   the   Roman    city. 
And  so  from  Ennius  to  Yergil  it  was  the  school- 
mistress of  the  heavy  rustic  Latin,  a  tongue  of 
fields  and  cows,  of  beans  and  peas  and  fodder, 
of  rough  policemen  and  dickering  pedlers.     The 
Roman  knew  that  his  soul  had  no  wings,  but  he 
bore  the  veiled  sarcasm  of  his  Athenian  or  Co- 
rinthian teacher  for  love  of  the  graceful  forms 
into  which  he  was  soon  able  to  cast  his  thoughts, 
the  very  ones  that  he  had   borrowed  from  the 
gifted  children  of   Hellas.      He   had   destroyed 
their  archaic  autonomy,  he  had  laid  waste  their 
small    but   marvellous   State  —  this   was   their 
revenge,   that   in   the   hour   of    gross   material 
triumph   the   spirit   of    Rome   prostrated   itself 
before  the  spirit  of  Greece  and  divided  with  the 
latter  the  hegemony  of  mankind. 

And  so,  in  the  latter  half  of  the  fifteenth 
century,  when  that  splendid  seat  of  Greek  life 
and  thought,  Constantinople,  was  unhappily  lost 
to  Christendom,  there  was  an  exodus,  a  flight  of 
its  learned  proletariat,  the  gifted  and  needy  but 


406  ON   THE  ITALIAN  RENAISSANCE, 

often  unprincipled  and  immoral  scholars  of  the 
Christian  Orient.  From  the  Golden  Horn  and 
the  Greek  cities  of  Asia  Minor  they  came  in 
great  numbers  to  Italy.  Every  city  of  the 
peninsula  welcomed  them,  every  little  court 
invited  them.  Only  Florence,  the  City  of  the 
Golden  Lilies,  was  especially  generous.  Here  a 
great  family  of  merchant-princes  and  bankers, 
the  Medici,  had  long  been  absorbing,  by  a  com- 
plicated system  of  accounts,  the  political  author- 
ity, long  been  debasing  the  democratic  spirit  of 
the  once  rude  and  proud  commonwealth  by  the 
Arno.  Cosimo  de'  Medici,  and  his  grandson 
Lorenzo  the  Magnificent,  are  among  the  ex- 
traordinary men  of  history — self-willed,  working 
now  by  cunning,  now  by  violence,  gifted  with  a 
clear  untroubled  vision  of  their  aims  and  the 
practical  means  to  attain  them,  rich  beyond  past 
example,  judiciously  prodigal,  cautious  and  cer- 
tain in  their  deliberate  enslavement  of  the  Flor- 
entine. In  and  through  the  Medici,  tHems  elves 
enriched  democrats,  the  democracies  of  Northern 
Italy  finally  fell  a  prey  to  the  new  monarchies 
that  it  took  a  Napoleon  to  overthrow.  But  if 
they  were  enemies  of  the  popular  liberties,  the 
Medici  were  the  patrons  of  letters  and  arts. 
Their  money  flowed  like  water  for  manuscripts 


ON  THE  ITALIAN  RENAISSANCE.  407 

of  the  Greek  and  Latin  classics,  for  nrnsenms 
and  galleries  where  all  the  curiosities  of  antiq- 
uity were  gathered,  for  collections  of  coins  and 
medals,  for  every  bit  of  skilled  handiwork  — 
engravings,  bronzes,  marbles,  ivories,  miniatures, 
intaglios,  jewels  —  for  all  that  was  rich,  rare, 
and  beautiful.  Under  their  protection  the  learn- 
ing and  poetry  of  Greece  were  made  known 
again  to  Italy  after  an  estrangement  of  twelve 
centuries.  Aristotle  was  taught,  but  not  the 
barbarous  Aristotle  of  the  schools  —  he  was  now 
read  in  the  original  texts.  Above  all,  Plato  was 
set  up  as  the  true  master  of  the  mind,  the  one 
man  who  held  the  secrets  of  existence  both  here 
and  hereafter.  His  "  magisterium  "  was  unques- 
tioned, his  mellifluous  sentences  were  held  the 
very  breathing  of  divinity.  His  highly  spiritual 
philosophy  drove  out  from  the  schools  the  exact 
and  severe  logic  of  the  Stagirite.  At  the  same 
time  its  vague  and  uncertain  idealism  ate  in  like  a 
cancer  upon  the  stern  moral  conceptions  of  life, 
duty,  sin,  judgment,  that  were  essential  to  Chris- 
tianity. For  severity  of  principles  there  were  set 
up  serenity,  placidity  of  soul,  equableness  and 
moderation  of  views,  a  large  and  calm  tolerance 
of  all  opinions,  based  on  the  assumption  that 
there  was  nothing  in  the  realm  of  thought  but 


408  ON  THE  ITALIAN  RENAISSANCE, 

opinions,  and  that  the  correct  thing  was  to  have 
only  such  as  were  lovely  and  beautiful. 

The  doctrines  of  Plato  are,  in  a  way,  reconcila- 
ble with  Christianity,  which  can  always  find  some 
truth,  some  utility  in  every  human  philosophy. 
This  reconciliation  was  once  executed  by  the 
Christian  Fathers  —  SS.  Gregory  of  Nazianzum 
and  Gregory  of  Nyssa,  St.  Basil  the  Great, 
St.  John  Chrysostom,  and  others,  men  -of  sin- 
cere and  enlightened  faith.  It  could  not  be 
repeated  by  the  Byzantine  Greeks  of  the  Renais- 
sance, who  were  only  too  often  infidels  at  heart, 
scandalized  by  the  success  of  Mohammed,  and 
still  oftener  libertines  in  conduct  and  principle. 
Nevertheless,  a  holy  and  learned  cardinal  like 
Bessarion,  a  mystic  gentle  priest  like  Marsilio 
Ficino,  and  a  multitude  of  similar  men,  did 
believe  that  the  divine  Plato  was  as  another 
Messias,  and  that  his  refined  and  superior  natu- 
ralism could  somehow  be  the  bridge  over  which 
the  modern  world  would  go  into  the  fold  of 
Jesus  Christ.  It  was  an  excusable  error,  but  a 
profound  error,  and  its  influence  on  all  after  civ- 
ilization of  Europe  has  been  incalculable. 

All  these  new  influences  were  intimately  re- 
lated to  the  primum  mobile  of  Italian  life  —  the 
fine  arts.     Architecture,  painting,  sculpture,  and 


ON  THE  ITALIAN  RENAISSANCE.  409 

music  were  true  educators  at  all  times  of  the 
Italian  soul,  very  susceptible  and  plastic,  par- 
ticularly open  to  external  influences.  In  this 
the  Italians  differed  little  from  other  peoples 
who  live  beneath  a  cloudless  sky,  in  a  land  of 
perpetual  sunshine,  amid  the  charms  of  a  boun- 
teous and  smiling  nature. 

Italy  had  never  heaxtily  adopted  the  Gothic 
architecture.  The  soft  and  even  climate  called 
for  broad,  open,  and  lightsome  spaces,  while  the 
clear  and  cultivated  genius  of  the  people  was 
opposed  to  the  dim  uncertain  lines  and  the  semi- 
darkness  of  the  Northern  Gothic.  They  adopted, 
indeed,  such  details  as  were  compatible  with 
florid  ornamentation  —  the  pointed  arch,  the 
window  of  colored  glass.  But  the  so-called 
Gothic  churches  of  Italy  are  always  more  Ro- 
manesque than  Gothic,  seldom  if  ever  the  nicely 
poised  and  balanced  framework  that  rises  like 
a  perfect  problem  in  calculus.  Even  these  small 
concessions  to  the  mediaeval  spirit  were  soon 
withdrawn.  The  architecture  of  the  Italian 
Renaissance  becomes  frankly  pagan.  The  un- 
finished churches  of  their  Middle  Ages,  and  they 
were  many,  are  often  completed  after  the  style 
of  a  pagan  temple.  Everywhere  there  is  abso- 
lute  symmetry  of   level  lines,  cold,   unrelieved 


410  ON  THE  ITALIAN  BENAISSANCE. 

plain  surfaces,  perfect  proportions  of  columns 
and  stories  —  a  bookish  architecture  with  little 
or  no  free-ranging  personality.  Who  are  now 
the  builders  ?  It  is  no  longer  the  strong  spir- 
itual bishop  rousing  his  people  to  raise  before 
the  world  a  fitting  temple  for  the  God  of  all 
natural  beauty.  It  is  the  merchant  who  builds 
a  small  but  perfect  palace  within  a  reasonable 
time,  the  despot  who  enlarges  his  modest  shop 
and  converts  a  square  or  two  into  a  fortified  but 
elegant  camp,  the  brigand  who  calls  on  the 
scholar  to  make  his  stony  crags  impregnable, 
the  epicure  who  retires  from  a  jarring  and  rude- 
mannered  world  to  enjoy  a  life  of  natural  com- 
fort in  an  elegant  villa  amid  flowers  and  birds 
and  sunshine,  in  the  company  of  cultured  men 
and  women.  Italian  humanity,  in  its  upper 
classes,'  is  disenchanted  of  the  great  mediaeval 
spell  of  vigorous,  expanding,  proselytizing  Cathol- 
icism, and  the  new  temper  is  shown  at  once  in 
the  new  architecture  that  is  of  the  earth  earthy. 
It  is  not  a  little  striking  that  the  noble  treatise 
of  the  Roman  Vitruvius  on  architecture  should 
have  been  discovered  and  edited  by  Poggio,  one 
of  the  most  immoral  men  of  the  Renaissance. 
This  new  architecture  lends  itself  everywhere  to 
richness  and  elegance,  in  the  decoration  of  doors 


ON  THE  ITALIAN  BENAISSANCE.  411 

and  windows,  in  the  objects  of  furniture. 
Everywhere  the  ornaments  of  antiquity  return 
to  use  —  the  egg  and  dart,  the  scroll,  the  trail- 
ing vine,  the  scenes  of  the  harvest.  The 
churches  are  vast  galleries  of  pretty  and  tempt- 
ing art- works,  repetitions  of  the  salons  of  the 
nobles.  The  bell -towers  of  the  Middle  Ages, 
picturesque  and  rugged,  disappear ;  the  exterior 
walls  of  the  churches  are  white  or  yellow-washed. 
Most  of  the  traces  of  the  mediaeval  life  and 
spirit  vanish  —  as  a  rule,  of  course,  unconsciously. 
It  was  a  new  spirit,  a  new  atmosphere,  that  was 
abroad.  Architecture  became  a  thing  of  the 
schools,  a  science  of  rules  and  precepts  as  solemn 
as  the  laws  of  the  Medes  and  Persians.  This 
was  largely  the  work  of  the  Latin  and  Greek 
scholars,  the  men  known  as  Humanists,  from 
the  word  Humanitas  or  Humaniores  litterce,  mean- 
ing civilization,  refined  literature,  and  the  like. 
It  was  an  unfortunate  thing  that  deep  in  the 
hearts  of  many  of  these  men  there  reigned  a 
positive  antipathy  to  the  ideals  and  tenets  of 
Christianity  —  hence  all  its  peculiar  monuments 
must  be  decried.  New  ideas  must  have  a  new 
setting,  or  rather,  the  old  ideas  must  be  clothed 
again  in  the  old  forms. 

We  must  not  believe  that  all  this  love  of 


412  ON  THE  ITALIAN  BEXAISSANCE. 

classical  learning,  this  devotion  to  the  fine  arts, 
was  a  sudden  growth.  The  splendid  works  of 
the  fifteenth  century  in  painting  and  sculpture 
were  no  more  a  sudden  blossoming  than  the 
architecture  of  the  period.  Since  the  time  of 
Giotto  and  the  Pisani,  the  observation  of  nature 
and  the  perfection  of  technical  skill  in  drawing, 
coloring,  draping,  landscape,  decorative  orna- 
ment, had  been  growing.  There  were  regular 
schools  for  all  the  arts,  notably  the  workshops 
of  such  wonderful  Italian  cathedrals  as  Pisa  and 
Or^deto  and  Florence  that  were  never  quite 
finished  —  so  vast  were  the  ideas  of  their  build- 
ers. We  know  now  that  the  Italian  painters 
had  been  learning  much  from  the  artists  of 
Flanders  and  Buro-undy  —  the  handlins;  of  lig;ht 
and  shade,  the  art  of  painting  in  oils  —  a  revolu- 
tion that  threw  out  of  dailv  or  domestic  use  the 
fresco  and  the  painting  on  wood,  and  made 
popular  the  canvas  painting.  Engraving  on 
wood  and  copper  multiplied  the  best  work  and 
enriched  the  artist.  The  painter  is  now  as  in- 
tensely popular  as  once  the  singer  of  love  and 
war.  He  is  yet  a  plain  man  of  the  people  and 
bears  always  a  popular  name,  often  a  nickname. 
No  matter  what  his  subjects  are,  he  introduces 
the  local   landscape,  let   us  say  of   Tuscany  or 


ON  THE  ITALIAN  RENAISSANCE.  413 

Umbria,  the  local  personages  and  customs.  In 
the  human  figure  the  old  conventionalism  disap- 
pears and  the  portrait  takes  its  place  —  in  a 
word,  we  have  a  Christian  realism  in  painting. 
At  Sienna  there  lives  on  a  remnant  of  the  deeply 
pious  old  school,  the  school  of  calm  and  serene 
adoration  and  contemplation  that  has  left  us  the 
sweet  evangel  of  San  Gemignano.  But  through- 
out Tuscany,  beginning  with  Florence,  it  is  dif- 
ferent. Living  portraits,  domestic  landscapes, 
local  traits  of  daily  life,  real  houses  and  castles, 
unique  and  lovely  ornaments  based  on  flowers 
of  the  field  and  the  lines  of  nature  herself  —  the 
individual  experiences  of  the  painter  —  are  in 
every  picture.  The  propliets  lose  their  nimbus 
or  halo,  the  apostles  are  figures  of  men  on  the 
street,  the  women  are  the  mothers,  sisters,  sweet- 
hearts, of  the  painters.  Some  few  traces  of  that 
stem  law  of  early  Christian  painting  that  fixed 
every  type  and  made  it  obligatory  live  on. 
Thus,  the  "Last  Supper,"  the  "Madonna  and 
Child,"  for  the  composition  and  disposition  of  fig- 
ures, are  the  same  as  you  may  see  in  the  Cata- 
combs at  Rome.  But  Lionardo  da  Vinci  is  said 
to  have  walked  the  streets  of  Milan  for  ten  years 
looking  for  a  suitable  head  of  Christ  to  put  in 
his  great  masterpiece.     The  living  model  came 


414  ON  THE  ITALIAN  BENAISSANCE. 

into  use  —  it  would  have  been  an  abomination 
to  the  severely  moral  and  mystic  soul  of  the 
mediaeval  painter.  Painting  was,  indeed,  yet  in 
the  service  of  the  Church.  But  it  was  seeking 
new  objects,  ancient  history  and  pagan  mythol- 
ogy. Here  came  in  the  influence  of  the  book- 
men, the  Greek  and  Latin  scholars.  Through 
them  the  painting,  or  rather  the  sculpture  and 
architecture  of  antiquity,  revived  and  were  culti- 
vated. They  lectured  on  the  beauty  of  them, 
praised  every  new  find,  wrote  daily  on  the  abso- 
lute inimitable  perfection  of  what  the  Greeks  and 
Romans  did,  said,  and  were.  Consciously  or  un- 
consciously these  teachers,  whether  in  university 
hall  or  city  market-place,  or  in  the  palaces  of 
the  nobles,  perverted  the  simple  genuine  Christian 
life  of  many  an  Italian  town.  The  thousand 
years  of  the  Middle  Ages  became  a  long  dismal 
blank  —  its  monuments,  like  its  writings,  were  to 
their  mind  without  true  style,  without  perfection 
of  form,  therefore  bad  and  worthy  of  eternal 
oblivion. 

Of  course,  the  local  domestic  origin  of  much 
Italian  painting  kept  up  always  the  religious 
life.  A  multitude  of  the  noblest  works  of  the 
great  masters  of  the  fifteenth,  and  even  the 
sixteenth,   centm^y   was    produced    for    village 


OiV  THE  ITALIAN  BENAISSANCE.  415 

confraternities  —  banners,  altar-pieces  ;  another 
multitude  was  made  for  individuals.  Every 
lady  wanted  a  Madonna  in  her  little  oratory, 
and  it  must  be  by  the  best  painter  of  the  time. 
The  workshop  of  a  Perugino  or  a  Raphael  was 
crowded  with  orders  from  all  Italy.  Raphael  is 
said  to  have  painted  with  his  own  hand,  or  de- 
signed and  begun,  nearly  three  hundred  Madonnas. 
Every  family  of  importance  had  an  altar  in  the 
parish  church  or  in  some  church  of  the  monks  or 
friars,  and  it  had  to  be  decorated  by  the  finest 
talent  they  could  secure.  Then  there  were  the 
"Laudi,"  the  village  processions,  and  the 
"  Mysteries  "  —  the  real  origin  of  our  theatres. 
All  their  forms  of  outdoor  life  called  for  im- 
ages, painted  compositions,  and  the  most  famous 
painter  did  not  disdain  the  gold  pieces  that  he 
got  from  humble  village-folk  for  these  designs. 
The  intense  rivalry  of  popular  Italian  life  com- 
pelled him  to  produce  something  new  and  lovely 
each  time,  and  in  this  way  furthered  constantly 
the  perfection  of  such  work. 

Thus,  the  natural  genius,  the  climate,  the 
history,  the  monuments  of  antiquity,  the  lan- 
guage of  the  Italians,  and  their  unbroken  resi- 
dence on  the  soil  since  the  remotest  times  — 
all  conspired  to   create  an  incredible    number 


416  ON  THE  ITALIAN  RENAISSANCE. 

of    the   loveliest  works   of    art,   and  to   make 
Italy  one   great   gallery  of   the   fine   arts. 

In  the  fifteenth  century  were  finished,  to  a 
great  extent,  the  buildings  begun  in  the  thir- 
teenth. Milan,  Orvieto,  Sienna,  Pisa,  gave  the 
new  classical  temper  a  chance  to  overshadow 
the  spirit  of  the  Middle  Ages  in  fagades,  win- 
dows, decoration,  and  sculpture  that  consciously 
depart  from  the  spiritual  beliefs  and  ideals  of 
the  .men  who  planned  and  partly  executed  these 
great  works.  The  new  skill  in  drawing,  both 
outline  and  perspective,  and, in  foreshortening, 
permitted  a  more  grandiose  kind  of  frescoing. 
And  when  the  scholars  of  Squarcione  at  Padua, 
like  Andrea  Mantegna,  were  given  such  a  work 
as  the  T  palace  of  Mantua  to  build,  they  repro- 
duced antiquity  along  every  line  as  far  as  they 
were  able.  They  did  not  have  it  all  their  own 
way  —  a  Fra  Angelico  and  a  Fra  Bartolommeo, 
and  many  another  famous  painter,  still  clung  to 
the  inward  and  ideal  spiritual  beauty,  the  ex- 
pression in  each  face  of  tender  sentiments  of 
piety,  divine  adoration,  love,  humility,  gratitude. 
After  the  great  triumphs  of  the  fifteenth  century 
the  genuinely  Christian  sculpture  grew  rarer, 
driven  out  of  business  by  the  glorious  models 
of  antique  art  that  were  being  daily  dug  up, 


ON  THE  ITALIAN  BENAISSANCE.  417 

and  by  the  popular  admiration  for  these  models 
that  sinned  in  many  ways  against  the  delicacy 
of  the  Christian  conscience.  When  finally  the 
old  St.  Peter's  was  thrown  down  and  the  vast 
modern  basilica  was  planned  and  begun,  the 
genuine  Christian  architecture,  and  with  it  of 
course  the  other  arts,  suffered  a  humiliation 
from  which  they  are  only  beginning  to  recover. 
A  curious  feature  of  the  Italian  Renaissance 
is  the  fact  that  many  of  its  painters,  sculptors, 
and  architects  were  goldsmiths  or  apprentices 
of  goldsmiths.  The  Italian  goldsmith  of  the 
time  was  in  reality,  very  often,  the  chief  man 
of  science  in  the  town.  We  must  remember 
that  there  was  as  yet  no  sharp  distinction  in 
artistic  work  —  the  true  artist  was  able  to  turn 
his  hand  to  sculpture  as  well  as  painting,  to 
engraving  on  copper  as  well  as  to  writing  down 
the  principles  and  practice  of  all  these  arts. 
Thus  the  goldsmith  must  know  many  secrets 
of  chemistry  and  the  treatment  of  the  precious 
metals,  he  had  to  be  an  architect  for  designing 
of  reliquaries  and  an  engraver  for  the  inscriptions 
and  fine  ornamentation,  a  worker  in  mosaic  and 
therefore  a  painter;  a  good  ironsmith  too,  for 
he  often  had  orders  of  a  bulky  nature.  His 
shop,  like  the  traditional  shoemaker's  shop,  was 


418  OiV  THE  ITALIAN  BENAISSANCE, 

the  rendezvous  of  the  chief  citizens;  his  lovely 
masterpieces  were  on  their  tables  and  in  their 
halls. 

So  a  Verrocchio,  a  Pollajuolo,  a  Ghirlandajo, 
a  Francia,  were  either  apprentices  of  goldsmiths 
or  goldsmiths  themselves.  It  is  also  of  some  in- 
terest to  know  that  most  of  the  great  artists  of 
the  fifteenth  century  were  of  poor  and  humble  ori- 
gin. It  is  a  significant  commentary  on  the  truism 
that  the  real  goods  of  life  are  not  moneys,  lands, 
revenues,  but  the  fruits  of  the  mind  and  the 
heart  —  education  and  religion.  Who  knows 
or  who  cares,  except  some  dustman  or  scavenger 
of  history,  about  the  rich  bankers  of  Augsburg, 
the  wool  merchants  of  Florence,  the  public  car- 
riers of  Venice  ?  With  their  wealth  they  wrote 
a  line  upon  the  sands  of  time  that  the  next 
wave  obliterated.  But  the  names  of  the  great 
artists  shine  forever  in  their  masterpieces  and 
echo  forever  above  the  great  procession  of  hu- 
manity. Their  very  names  to-day  are  a  golden 
mine  for  Italy,  since  from  every  quarter  of  the 
world  they  draw  thither  an  increasing  multitude 
of  men  and  women.  Giotto  was  a  shepherd,  and, 
like  him,  Andrea  Mantegna  tended  sheep.  Fra 
Bartolommeo  was  the  son  of  a  carter.  Lionardo 
da  Vinci,  Brunelleschi,  and  Michael  Angelo  were 


ON  THE  ITALIAN  RENAISSANCE.  419 

the  sons  of  humble  officials.  They  were  all,  or 
nearly  all,  poorly  enough  paid,  and  much  less 
esteemed  than  the  pompous  Latinists  and  Gre- 
cists  who  got  all  that  was  going  in  the  shape 
of  fat  offices,  ambassadorships,  public  junketings, 
and  the  like.  Society  usually  gets  what  it  pays 
for  —  in  those  days  it  admired  too  much  the  fine 
forms  of  antiquity,  that  were  as  empty  then 
as  now  of  any  deep  moral  value,  and  it  got  in 
return  fine  words  and  elegant  rhetoric.  But 
these  were  very  hollow  things  and  failed  to 
preserve  the  popular  liberties  of  the  Italian 
republics  that  were  as  solid  as  a  rock  so  long  as 
the  people  held  to  their  mediaeval  ideals.  While 
the  people  of  Florence,  for  example,  went  off 
in  pursuit  of  mere  earthly  beauty,  in  language 
and  color  and  form,  the  chains  of  a  long  slavery 
were  being  forged  against  their  awakening. 
With  his  banquets  and  his  songs,  his  wit  and 
his  lasciviousness,  his  manuscripts  and  his 
jewels,  Lorenzo  led  the  people  out  of  their  medi- 
aeval roughness  and  rawness.  But  when  these 
nodes  coenmque  cleum  were  over  came  the  dawn 
of  a  cruel  and  debasing  slavery. 

After  all,  Florence  is  the  t3rpical  city  of  the 
Itahan  Renaissance.  It  is  true  that  many  of 
her  greatest   artists  worked  for   the  popes  at 


420  ON  THE  ITALIAN  BENAISSANCE, 

Kome,  and  that  St.  Peter's  and  the  Vatican 
are  onl}^  too  thoroughly  Renaissance  work.  It 
is  true  that  a  multitude  of  Roman  churches  owe 
their  erection  or  their  present  form  and  orna- 
ment to  this  period.  It  is  also  true  that  govern- 
ment and  administration  were  highly  colored  in 
that  city  by  the  ideals  and  the  temper  of  the 
Renaissance.  But,  when  all  is  said,  it  remains 
true  that  the  city  of  Rome  is  primarily  a  mediae- 
val city,  and  only  in  a  secondary  way  a  city  of 
the  Renaissance.  Its  art  is  at  Rome  an  impor- 
tation, the  citizens  do  not  give  their  children  to 
it,  it  has  nowhere  a  common  popular  character. 
There  is  no  wild  surging  of  the  masses  to  look 
at  the  last  masterpiece  of  Donatello,  no  submis- 
sion of  superb  plans  and  designs  to  the  taste  of 
the  mob.  Thus,  while  the  Eternal  City  wears 
the  livery  of  the  Renaissance,  it  is  nowise  true 
that  it  was  the  foyer,  the  living  centre  of  its 
influence.  That  was  always  Florence.  There  the 
slowly  rising  cathedral,  the  baptistery,  the  bronze 
doors  of  Ghiberti,  the  private  fortress-palaces 
of  the  Pitti,  the  Strozzi,  the  Rucellai,  the  statues 
of  San  Giorgio,  the  masterpieces  of  the  Loggia, 
the  Greek  philosophers  and  infidels,  the  Latin 
orators  and  critics,  the  gabby  farceurs,  the  della 
Robbia,  a   Filippo   Lippi,  a  Benozzo  Gozzoli,  a 


ON  THE  ITALIAN  RENAISSANCE.  421 

Domenico  Ghirlandajo,  are  all  contemporary, 
all  at  home  beneath  a  sky  and  amid  a  nature 
that  seemingly  are  made  for  them.  For  us 
moderns  they  have  been  made  to  live  again  by 
John  Addington  Symonds,  by  Perrens,  Villari, 
Monnier,  and  by  the  incomparable  "  vision "  of 
George  Eliot.  Rome,  Naples,  Milan,  Venice, 
and  countless  minor  cities,  have  each  their  im- 
mortal works,  their  glorious  names,  that  enthuse 
from  generation  to  generation  all  lovers  of  the 
beautiful.  Each  of  these  cities  has  its  own  signifi- 
cance in  the  history  of  the  human  mind  in  the 
West.  Each  was  in  its  way  a  schoolroom  of  our 
education.  But  Florence  is  the  great  university 
of  the  Renaissance,  where  its  materials  are  piled 
up,  where  its  professors  were  trained,  where  its 
lessons  were  long  and  regularly  taught,  where 
its  philosophy  worked  out  most  easily  all  its 
purposes  and  problems.  Here,  above  all,  its  spirit 
was  always  at  home,  a  supreme  and  masterful 
spirit  of  free  affectionate  surrender  to  the  claims 
of  beauty,  regardless  of  truth  and  morality,  as 
though  beauty  were  to  itself  a  higher  law  and 
its  service  some  unshackled  esoteric  form  of 
religion,  sole  worthy  of  the  chosen  spirits 
to  whom  are  revealed  its  infinite  grace,  pro- 
portion,   and    harmony.        Here,    long    before 


422  ON  THE  ITALIAN  RENAISSANCE, 

Luther  and  Calvin,  was  reached  the  real 
parting  of  the  ways,  the  Pythagorean  letter 
of  crucial  import,  the  conscious  divorce  of  the 
senses  and  the  soul  with  a  rigid  resolution  to 
walk  in  the  chosen  path  whithersoever  it  finally 
led. 

Abeady  the  soul  of  Christian  Italy  was  called 
on  to  accept  the  noted  formula :  Amicus  quidem 
Plato,  sed  magis  arnica  Veritas.  It  is  a  long  cry 
from  Pius  II.  (^neas  Sylvius)  to  St.  Pius  V., 
but  in  that  fateful  century  there  went  on  such 
a  fierce  and  relentless  probing  of  hearts  and 
consciences  throughout  the  peninsula  as  had 
never  been  seen  since  the  days  of  Augustus. 
Unexpectedly  men  came  upon  the  scene  who 
hewed  judgment  to  the  line  and  hung  the  plum- 
met of  righteousness.  And  when  their  work 
was  done  the  astonished  world  confessed  that 
there  was  yet  a  heart  of  oak  in  the  old  mediae- 
val burg  of  Catholicism,  that  it  could  rise,  stern 
and  uncompromising,  from  an  hour  of  dalliance 
and  indolence,  that  it  was  not  unworthy  of  its 
immemorial,  right  of  leadership,  that  it  was  able 
to  cope  as  successfully  with  the  insidious  revival 
of  the  paganism  of  Libanius  and  Symmachus  as 
it  had  with  the  paganism  of  Frederick  II.,  that 
it  knew  itself  always  for  the  living  responsible 


ON  THE  ITALIAN  BENAISSANCE.  423 

conscience  of  Catholicism  which  had  never  yet 
implored  from  it  in  vain  the  key-note  of  harmony 
or  the  bugle-call  of  resistance  unto  death,  and 
that  with  native  directness  it  saw  far  and  clearly 
into  the  nature  and  course  of  the  incredible  rev- 
olution that  was  sweeping  away  all  Northern 
Europe. 


ALPHABETICAL   INDEX. 


Agapetus,  teacher  of  Justinian, 

108,  112 
Agilulf,  23 
Alaric,  67 

Albertus  Magnus,  242 
Alcuin,  233 
Alfred  the  Great,  223 
Amiel,  252 

Anastasius,  Emperor,  41,  42 
Anglo-Saxons,  barbarian,  char- 
acter of,  27,  43 

Christianized,  28 

and  Holy  See,  29,  32 
Apostolic  Constitutions,  287 
Aquitania,  Bernard  of,  243 
Arabs,  fairs  of,  114 

literature,  115 

pastoral  life,  115 

homogeneity,  115 

their  paganism,  116 

ascetics  among,  120 

Spanish,  civilization  of,  200 
Architecture,    Italian,    growth 

of,  416 
Arianism,  origin  of,  49 

Lombard,  23 
Arnulf,  of  Cambrai,  239,  367 

of  Metz,  246 
Arts,  origin  of  mediaeval  fine, 
236 

domestic,  236 

power  of,  in  Italy,  418 

Seven  Liberal,  234 
Assemani,  229 
Astronomy,  234 
Asylum,  right  of,  193 
Ataulf,  188 
Athens,  schools,  decay  of,  36 


Authority,   Catholic    idea    of, 
169,  171 
papal,  16 
Avars,  empire  of,  57,  63 

Barbarians,    Romanized,  laws 

of,  101 
Barbarism,  age   of,  9,  37,  43, 
54,  56,   58,   67,    136,    139, 
374 
Bartolommeo,  Fra,  418 
Basilicas,  Christian,  317,  318, 

319 
Bathing,  in  primitive  Christian 
times,  286,  287,  288 
in  Middle  Ages,  290,  292 
frequency  of,  291 
Baths,  Roman,  closing  of,  289 
ecclesiastical  Roman,  294 
mediaeval,  290 
casuistry  of,  291,  295 
in    France,   Germany,    Eng- 
land, 295 
Bede,  St.,  233 
Belisarius,  53,  61,  64 
Bernward,  of  Hildesheim,  236 
Bishop,  mediaeval,  and  woman, 
174 
the  mediaeval,  155 
social  office  of,  156,  159 
moral  authority  of,  170 
Bishops,  Catholic,  save  law  and 
order,  14, 140, 145, 147, 149, 
154, 163,  189, 193, 194, 195, 
197 
Boethius,  232 
Brebeuf,  27 
Brewer,  James,  298 


425 


426 


ALPHABETICAL  INDEX, 


Britain,  and  Empire,  55 
Brunelleschi,  239,  418 

Csesaro-papism,  50,  107 
Canon  Law,  nature  of,  167 
influence  of,  167 
and  civil  order,  168 
Cassiodorus,  231,  240 
Cathedral,    mediaeval,    nature 
of,  324,  353 
workshop  of   fine  arts,  325, 

353 
practical  school  of  building 

arts,  327 
administration  of,  328 
decoration  of,  331 
furniture  of,  332,  334 
a  city  of  the  dead,  333 
a  popular  enterprise,  336 
an  interpreter  of  Catholicism, 

338 
an  expression  of    real  life, 

341 
how  built,  343 
contributions  of  poor,  343 
and  the  guilds,  346 
the  germ  of   city   life,  329, 

330 
example  of  good  administra- 
tion, 205 
Catholicism,  a  manifold  plas- 
tic power,  219 
distinctive    monuments    of, 

312 
civilizing  work  of,  207 
and  natural  character,  208 
and  public  opinion,  210 
and  natural  languages,  211 
and     mediaeval     education, 

197,  198 
and  the  soil  of  Europe,  142 
and  the  laws  of  labor,  143 
and  social  reform,  144 
and  peasantry  of  Europe,  153 
and  youthful  states,  160 
and  mediaeval  tyranny,  165 
and  mediaeval  marriage,  172 
and  woman,  174 


the    nursery    of     mediaeval 

life,  180 
mediaeval   popular  influence 
of,  307,  322 
Caucasus,  Christians  of,  62 
Chalcedon,  Council  of,  61,  88, 

109 
Chant,  Gregorian,  34 
Character,  national  mediaeval, 

208 
Charlemagne,  55,  187,  295,  296, 

320,  359 
Charles  the  Bald,  244,  248 
Chaucer,  239 
Chosroes  II.,  61 
Christianity  in  India,  origin  of, 

222 
Churches,   Catholic,  compared 
with  pagan  temples,  314 
growth    of    Catholic    types, 

315,  316 
number  and  beauty  of  an- 
cient, 317 
the  books  of  the  people,  308 
parish,  uses  of,  206 
mediaeval  function  of,  207 
Cities,  Catholic  origin  of  many, 

152,  153 
Civilization,  nature  of,  134 
Classics,    Latin,    devotion    to, 

395,  419 
Clergy,  Catholic,  in  mediaeval 
England,  298. 
and  popular  instruction,  299, 

306 
manuals   of   preaching,  301, 

304 
grossly  slandered,  302 
Climate,   influence    on    Greek 

character,  83 
Cloth,  manufacture  of,  156 
Cluny,  influence  of  monastery, 

359 
Cochlaeus,  John,  257 
Colchu,  of  Clonmacnois,  238 
Color,  mediaeval  passion  for,  334 
Columbus,  217 
Common  Life,  Brothers  of,  257 


ALPHABETICAL  INDEX. 


427 


Constantinople,  Greek  charac- 
ter of,  46 

and  Persia,  51,  62 

and  Balkans,  58 

influence  on  Slav  world,  59 

natural  seat  of  empire,  69 

influence  of  climate,  8-i 

morality  of  mediaeval,  79 

condition  of  woman  in,  80 

society  of,  80,  82 

the  Hippodrome,  86 

Blue  and  Green  factions,  86 

Church  and  State  in,  107 

Nike  sedition,  86. 

and  Islam,  218 

also   pp.  321,  361,  362,  365, 
366,  389 
Controversies,      christological, 

last  days  of,   105 
Cosmos  Indicopleustes,  221 
Crusades,  character  of,  355, 356, 
390 

and  the  papacy,  307 

enthusiasm  for,  370 

beginnings  of,  359 

conduct  of,  362,  369 

motives  of,  364 

first  expansion  of  mediaeval 
Europe,  373,  375 

influence  on  European  poli- 
tics, 376 

and  human  learning,  388,  390 

judgment  of  impartial  Prot- 
estant writers,  392     * 

and  navigation,  383 

domestic  arts,  383 

further  cause  of  human  lib- 
erty, 384 

and    vernacular     literatures, 
385 

and  middle  classes,  387,  388 

dissensions  of,  365 

share  of  Venice  and  Genoa, 
368 

of  Italians,  386 

feudal  states  in  Orient,  369 

improvement  of  warfare,  370, 
382,  383 


Culture,  Christian,  13 
Catholic  mediaeval,  216 

Dante,  104,  215,  235,  239 
Daras,  fortress  of,  66,  71 
Dialectic,  234 
Diamper,  Synod  of,  225 
Dicuil,  of  Clonmacnois,  233 
Digest,  The,  99 

Docility,  a  mediaeval  trait,  163 
Dodana,  Duchess  of   Septima- 

nia,  243 
Duns  Scotus,  239 

Edda,  the,  and  Catholicism,  214 
Education,  mediaeval,  177, 178, 
197,  256,  257 
for  laymen,  205 
ethical  spirit  of,  240 
aims  at  the  heart,  241 
German,  and  the    Reforma- 
tion, 258,  269 
causes  of  decay,  259,  262, 267 
Luther  on  Catholic,  260 
sad  fate  of  teachers,  263 
immorality  of  youth,  264,  283 
absence  of  discipline,  266 
Egypt,   granary  of   Constanti- 
nople, 71 
Einhard,  243,  296 
Ekkehard,  243 
Eloi,  St.,  230 
Embroidery,  199 
Emperor,  Byzantine,  character 
and  office,  50,  85 
theory  of  mediaeval,  374,  375 
Empire,   Byzantine,    greatness 
of,  42 
Roman,  collapse  of,  10,  139, 
150 
Engelbert,  of  Cologne,  330 
England,  before  the  Reforma- 
tion, 297 
Ennodius,  of  Pavia,  240 
Era,  Christian,  introduction  of, 

35 
Erasmus,  Colloquia  of,  265 
Eucharist,  the  Holy,  201 


428 


ALPHABETICAL  INDEX. 


Fagging,  in  German  universi- 
ties, 284 

Fairs,  mediaeval,  156 

Florence,  home  of  the  Renais- 
sance, 406,  419 

France,  consolidated  by  church- 
men, 179 

Frank,  Empire,  origin  of,  55 

Franks,  character  of,  24 

Freeman,  Edward,  381 

Gasquet,  Dom,  298,  304,  306 
Gellone,  William  of,  243 
Genoa,  and  the  Crusades,  368 
George  Eliot,  421 
German  language,  and  Catholi- 
cism, 211 

neglected  for  Latin,  265 
Germany,  culture  of  mediaeval, 

256 
Gibbon,  Edward,  character  as 

historian,  77 
Giotto,  347,  418 
Good  works,  doctrine  of,  178 
Gothic,  origin  of  style,  322 

principles  of,  323 

first  home  is  the  North  of 
France,  324 
Grosseteste,  of  Lincoln,  330 
Grotius,  Hugo,  162 
Greece,  desolation  of,  67 

mediaeval  history  of,  37 
Greek  churches,  sources  of  his- 
tory, 106 
Greeks,  mediaeval,  and  the  Cru- 
sades, 366,  367 
Gregory  the  Great,  family  of, 
17 

early  education,  18 

benefactor  of  humanity,  19 

and  barbarian  world,  20,  26 

and  Lombards,  23 

and  barbarian  kings,  25 

and  Anglo-Saxons,  27 

accused  of  ignorantism,  34 

his  writings,  30,  33 

his  memory,  33 

and  farmers  of  Sicily,  146 


Gregory  Vtl,  359,  560 
Guelf  and  Ghibelline,  351 
Guilds,  the  mediaeval,  346,  352 

Hagar,  and  Ishmael,  114 
Handwriting,  199 
Hanif  s,  Arabian  monks,  120 
Heathen  customs,  34 
Hegira,  era  of  the,  121 
Hegius  Alexander,  257 
Hellenism,  world-career,  47 

nature  of,  48 

and  heresy,  48 

and  the  Orient,  51 

decay  of,  36 
Henry  IV.,  Emperor,  360 
Henry  VIIL,  298 
Hergenrother,  Cardinal,  108 
Huns,  Empire  of,  57 

Ideas,  fundamental  mediaeval, 

309 
Illyrian  emperors,  41 
Institutions,  Roman,  decay  of, 
11,  35,  36,  37,  127 
representative,  180,  195 
educational,    continuity    of, 
231 
International  Law,  160 
Isauria,  rebellions  of,  65 
Islam,  its  dogma,  113 
the  five  points  of,  116 
notion  of  God,  117 
of 'sin  and  morality,  117 
fatalism  of,  117 
influence  of,  118,  128 
spread  by  the  sword,  126 
reasons  of  success,  127 
mediaeval  culture  of,  128 
and  the  Crusades,  130 
and  the  popes,  132,  133 
Italy,  mediaeval,  schools  of,  232, 
242 
preserves  the  building  arts, 

321 
five    states    of    in     Renais- 
sance, 396 
wars  of,  396 


ALPHABETICAL  INDEX. 


429 


despots  of,  397 
and  Latin  classics,  401 
■monuments  and  reminiscen- 
ces of  former  greatness,  402 
and  Roman  Law,  403 
superior    education    of    lay- 
men in,  404 
and  Greek  scholarship,  404, 

406,  407 
and  the  Medici,  406 
and  the  fine  arts,  409 
and  pagan  architecture,  409 

Janssen,  John,  History  of  Ger- 
man people,  258,  298,  305 
Jesuits,  and  education  in  Ger- 
many, 269 

and   the   neo-c lassie  drama, 
274,  275 
Jesus  Christ,  spirit  of,  37 

mediaeval  devotion  to,  358 
John  of  Cappadocia,  88 
Judith,  Empress,  24 
Jurisconsults,  Roman,  97 
Justinian,  place  in  history,  38 

sources  of  history,  39 

nationality  of,  40 

policy  of,  52 

wars  of,  53,  65 

cares  of,  63,  68 

his  generals,  64,  65 

fortifications  of,  67 

diplomacy  of,  71 

decay  of  his  army,  73 

builds  many  churches,  75 

humane  legislation  of,  75,  76 

fiscal  oppression  of,  87 

passion  for  architecture,  90 

generosity  of,  91 

his  law  schools,  92 

and  laws  of  Rome,  93,  97 

Christian  spirit  of,  103 

and  Dante,  103 

a   theologian,   92,   108,  110, 
112 

and  Ravenna,  111 

and  Roman  Church,  91,  108 
Justiuiana  Prima,  59 


Kaaba,  the,  114 

Kadidja,  wife  of  Mohammed, 

118,  119 
Knights,     Hospitaller    of     St. 

John,  371,  372 
Koran,  the,  121,  122 
character  of,  124 
bondage  of,  132 

Lallemant,  27 

Language,      mediaeval      devo- 
tional, 303 

national,  affected  by  Catholi- 
cism, 213 
Law  of  Citations,  98 

International,  origin  of,  160 

Roman,  growth  of,  94 

spirit  of,  95 

codification  of,  96 

mediaeval,  99,  101 

influence  of,  101 
Legates,  papal,  161 
Leo  the  Great,  16    • 
Leo  X.,  394 
Leo  XIIL,  162 
Liber  Manualis,  of  Dodana,  242 

date  of,  244 

a  journal  intime,  245,  253 

content  of,  246 

piety  of,  250 
Leonardo  da  Vinci,  418 
Literature,    Italian,     fondness 
for,  402,  419 

European,  vernacular  growth 
of,  385 
Liturgy,  Catholic,  a  civilizing 
factor,  209 

mediaeval  influence  of,  250 
Liudprand  of  Cremona,  361 
Lombards,  character  of,  23,  54, 

56 
Louis,  the  Pious,  244 

St.,  310 
Loyalty,     mediaeval    idea    of, 
357,  358 

Maestri  Comacini,  319 
Maitland,  Dr.  Samuel,  298 


430 


ALPHABETICAL  INDEX. 


Malabar,    Christians   of,    222, 
223 
their  wooden  churches,  224 
their  rites  and  customs,  225 
church  discipline,  227 
writers  on,  229 

Mantegna,  Andrea,  418 

Manuals,  of  mediaeval  preach- 
ing, 304 
of     prayers    in    vernacular, 
304 

Manuscripts,  illuminated,  197 

Marco  Polo,  217,  224 

Marcus  Aurelius,  37,  48,  56 

Marriage,  history  of  mediaeval, 
172 
impediments  of,  173 

Mary,  Blessed  Virgin,  201 

Maurice  de  Sully,  330 

Mecca,  holy  city  of  Arabs,  114, 

120,  123,  217 

Medici,  and  Florence,  406,  419 

Medism,  36,  52 

Melanchthon,  and  German  edu- 
cation, 264 

Michael  Angelo,  394,  418 

Michelet,  293 

Middle     Ages,    character    of, 
137 

Missionaries,  Franciscan,  217 

Mohammed,  birth  of,  114 
youth  of,  118 
religious  emotions  of,  119 
sources  of  his  teaching,  120, 

121,  122 

first  converts,  120 

at  Medina,  123 

and  Roman  Empire,  361 
Monasteries,  influences  of,  206 
Money,  mediaeval  idea  of,  175 
Monks,  Benedictine,  150 

civilizers  of  Europe,  151 

medical  service,  157 
Monnier,  421 

Monophysites,  85,  106,  109 
Montalembert,  381 

Nibelungen  Lied,  235 


Oaths,  sanctity  of,  181 

Office,  public,  mediaeval  con- 
cept of,  185,  188 

Opinion,  public,  mediaeval  ori- 
gin of,  210 

Otto,  of  Freising,  239 

Painting,  development  of  Ital- 
ian, 412,  415 
humble    origin    of    greatest 

masters,  418 
mediaeval  fresco,  334 
Pandects,  99 
Papal  letters  in  Middle  Ages, 

164 
Peasants'  War,  299 
Peramal,  Malabar  dynasty,  228 
Persia,  and  Roman  Empire,  51, 
59,  160 
subsidized    by   Constantino- 
'    pie,  61,  63 
engineers  of,  61 
Personality,  mediasval  sense  of, 

182 
Photius,  108,  361 
Pirkheimer,  Clara  and  Chari- 

tias,  257 
Pius  II.,  218 

Poor,  the  mediaeval,  157,  178 
Popes,  and  Roman  Empire,  15, 
20,  21,  31,  45 
and  Constantinople,  45 
and  Islam,  132,  133,  218 
and  the  Crusades,  366,  367 
and  Western  schism,  395 
peacemakers  of  Europe,  161 
Portuguese  and  Malabar  Chris- 
tians, 224,  226,  228 
Prayer  for  the  dead,  252 
Priesthood,  Catholic,  mediaeval 

respect  for,  249 
Procedure,  Roman,  191 
Procopius,  historian,  39,  53,  55 

secret  anecdotes  of,  77 
Puffendorf,  162 

Raphael,  394 
Eavenua,  54 


.ALPHABETICAL  INDEX. 


431 


Raymund  Lullus,  242 

Real  presence,  conditions  forms 

of  churches,  315 
Reform,   Christian    power    of, 

200 
Reformation,  eve  of,  298 
Renaissance,  meaning  of,  394 
remote  causes  of,  395 
temper  of,  400 
and  Plato,  408 
and  the  goldsmiths,  417 
antipathy     to     Christianity, 

407,  411,  414,  416 
and  Rome,  420,  422 
close  relation  of,  to  the  Mid- 
dle Ages,  412 
Renan, 293 
Responsibility,  mediaeval  sense 

of,  182 
Rhetoric,  mediaeval,  234 
Riches,  mediaeval  idea  of  right 

uses,  176 
Roger  Bacon,  242 
Roland,  Chanson  de,  235 
Roman  law,  190,  374,  403 

and  the  Church,  169, 190, 195 
Roman   and   Greek    character 

compared,  405 
Romance    languages    and    Ca- 
tholicism, 214 
Romanesque,   style,  origin   of, 

318,  319,  320 
Rome,  and   Anglo-Saxons,  29, 
32. 
and  Jerusalem,  362 

Sagas,  and  Catholicism,  214 
St.  Bede,  233 
St.  Francis  of  Assisi,  310 
St.  Louis  of  France,  239,  310 
St.  AVandrille,  of    Fontenelle, 

246 
Saints,  true  representatives  of 
Middle  Ages,  183 

royal,  187 
San  eta  Sophia,  building  of,  90 
Schools,  mediaeval,  198 

sciences  and  arts  in,  199 


beginnings  of,  233 
curriculum,  234 
Jesuit,  in  Germany,  270,  273 
Scriptures,  function  of  in  Mid- 
dle Ages,  210 
Senate,  Roman,  end  of,  35 
Shakespeare,  169,  381 
Sheiks,  Saracen,  60 
"Shepherd's    Book,"    the,    30, 

33 
Slanders,  on  the  Middle  Ages, 

286 
Slavery,    mediaeval    decay   of, 

175 
Slavs,  character  of  barbarian, 

57 
Suger,  239 
Suriani,    Malabar     Christians, 

223 
Swithelm  of  Sherburne,  223 
Symbolism,  Christian,  203 
Symonds,  John  Addington,  421 
Synods,  mediaeval,  social   uses 

of,  180,  195 
Syria,  and  Malabar  Christians, 

222 

Teachers,  mediaeval,  230 

science  of,  234 

religious  character  of,  238 
Templar,  Knights,  371 
Terror,  General,  a  fable,  321 
Teutonic  Knights,  372 
Theodelinda,  23 
Theodora,  Empress,  78,  84 
Theodoric,  41 
Thomas,  St.,  preaches  in  India, 

221 
Tribonian,  98 

Universities,   mediaeval   origin 

of,  204,  242 
German,  in  fifteenth  century, 

256 
Catholic   German,  decay  of, 

278 
causes  of,  279,  280 
Protestant  German,  281 


432 


ALPHABETICAL  INDEX. 


State  control  of,  282 
Usury,  176 

Venice  and  the  Crusades,  368 
Vergil,  in  Middle  Ages,  235 
Vigilius,  Pope,  109 
Viliari,  Fasquale,  421 
Viniculture,  156 

Welfare,    sense    of    common, 
.      179 


Western  mind  and  spirit,  217 
Wimpheling,  257,  264,  273 
Windows,   mediaeval    painted, 

335 
original  purpose  of,  336 
Winifred,   St.,   Holy   Well  of, 

296 
Woman,  mediaeval  training  of, 

258 

Zemzem,  sacred  well  of,  114 


Peintbd  by  Benziqke  Beothkes,  New  Yoek. 


14  DAY  USE 

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